Fall of Troy
by Steph Malfoy
Summary: [previously UNTIL THE END]Hephaestion and ALexander have not been so close these past months,and a physical attack made to Hephaestion will only push them even further apart as Hephaestion begins to resent Alexander's beloved 'Tales of Troy'
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note—**

So I've decided to try my hand at writing an Alexander story… it's my first so there are no promises on how it will turn out… I think I'll be bold and say I'm going for ten chapters or so. You see, 30 Seconds to Mars in basically my reason for living (alright, and you guys too, Hephastion and Patroclus) and I've gotten the idea that in writing an Alexander fanfic that I should start each chapter with a verse from one of their songs… but while I DO know basically where this story is going I'm not completely sure so I'll just ask you to be patient with my updates… they're no longer known for their quickness, I'm afraid. I think I'm using the song titled "Savior" for this one though. I like all the "until" things.

I'm also not a fan of writing "romantic" scenes but we all know that Hephaestion and Alexander are truly irresistible! And with that added hint of our lovely Cassander… I think I'll try my hand at some of the more "subtle" scenes to start but who knows…

This story will deal mainly with Hephaestion as the main character. I'm thinking that it will start around the time of the battle for the Hindu Kush… in _fact_, I think this will be in Bactria about a month after Alexander's wedding to Roxanne. I can't promise that everything will follow exactly to history, I may just allow my twisted mind to twist the actual events of history… for the benefit of this story…

Hmmm. Anyways, I've always loved—comp_letely_ loved—the portrayal of Hephaestion as a god—because he is one, okay? Let's just face it. But I also like a Hephaestion who isn't afraid to speak his mind and show his anger at times. I think I've found a fair mixture of the two.

Well, long author's notes seem to be my specialty but I'll stop for now. Reviews are always appreciated! Hope you enjoy this first chapter and let me know if I should continue.

REVIEW!

Steph (Phae15)

**Disclaimer: **since the men and events featured in this story happened to have lived long ago, I don't believe I could possibly own them… I am a proud owner of all THREE versions of Alexander though so I suppose I own Hephaestion in SOME way… ::looks around:: ha-ha. I was joking, Oliver, _serious_ly… just a little joke… ::looks down::grumbles:: I don't own Hephaestion…

**UNTIL THE END**

_Until you crash  
Until you burn  
Until you lie  
Until you learn  
Until you see  
Until you believe  
Until you fight  
Until you fall  
Until the end of everything at all  
Until you die  
Until you're alive_

_Don't save me, don't save me, cuz I don't care  
Don't save me, don't save me, cuz  
I don't care_

Until you give  
Until you've used  
Until you've lost  
Until you lose  
Until you see, how could you believe?  
Until you've lived a thousand times  
Until you've seen the other side  
This is my chance, this is my chance

Don't save me, don't save me, cuz I don't care  
Don't save me, don't save me, cuz  
I don't care

Until the truth becomes a lie  
Until you change, until you deny  
Until you believe

30 Seconds to Mars: Savior

**Chapter 1**

There were twelve men in that room that night and yet he could say that he only truly trusted one of them. Perhaps he even loved the cerulean eyed beauty that, as always, sat faithfully by the kings side. He hated the Athenian bred whelp… yet he loved him at the same time. There was a thin love between love and hate, Cassander was coming to realize, and that line could be crossed with the slightest implication.

Already he could tell that he was not the only one bordering on a love-hate relationship. No, the king and Hephaestion hardly even spoke anymore, Cassander accounted with a smirk that he hid behind the brim of his wineglass. Ever since Alexander had taken the Persian boy, the eunuch, into his chambers Hephaestion had been cast aside. Bagoas… yes, that was the boys name.

For all he was worth, Cassander hated Hephaestion and could not help but praise the Persian boy for his work.

Hephaestion, the poor Athenian boy, had not the stomach for war and yet he was Alexander's favorite general. Yes, perhaps Hephaestion had a way with words—something he'd rather use then his fists or sword—and yes, he was the kings confidant, best friend and… lover. But the Companions did not see Alexander giving Bagoas the place of a general in his great army… Whores had no place in an army… besides the beds of those who called upon them.

When he did put his mind to a battle, as he did just to please Alexander everyday, Hephaestion could match even Cassander in his ruthless swipes and jabs. But Cassander did it for the glory of war, because his heart needed to kill. Hephaestion killed because it pleased Alexander, not because he wanted to. Hephaestion was a brilliant strategist though, in the ways of battle and in the ways of life as well.

And so it was, by far, his Athenian upbringing that separated Hephaestion from the other Companions—the _true_ Macedonians. In Athens, where much of his youth had been spent before coming to Pella, Hephaestion learned to fight with his pride and his words before his weapons. In the eyes of others, Hephaestion's silence and lack of fight made him weak, hardly a man at all. Perhaps Hephaestion was more like the eunuch Bagoas …

Perhaps it was the knowledge that Hephaestion didn't have it in him to _hate_ another that made Cassander trust him. Yes, Hephaestion could dislike, as he did with Cassander and though he would always care for Alexander, Cassander could see the growing rift between them as plain as were it his dagger by his side. Others could see it too and they leapt upon Alexander, trying to prove their worth as a best friend, confidant and favored general. Among the leaders there were Ptolemy, the man who thought too much, Nearchus, the man who fancied himself a great soldier and an even greater friend, and Cleitus, the man who was Phillip's favorite who thought he was above everyone else.

All these other men could _see_ only when something was involved for them, when they would gain something. Cassander could see it coming, could see these men's corruption coming from gold and fancy things. It was as Aristotle said: it was excess that corrupted men.

All one had to do was look at Hephaestion and they would trust him. All one had to do was look into those cerulean eyes in that high cheek-boned, perfect face framed with long locks of chocolate brown mane… but Hephaestion's eyes… if you were to look hard enough into them you could learn his every secret. They were windows into his soul. But if you could not truly _see_, the walls in Hephaestion's eyes could make him seem cold and withdrawn, arrogant and cocky of position even. But Cassander could _see_.

Perhaps it was his eyes that, in the end, led the other men to hate him so. Or perhaps it was just his overall good looks, because one could not deny that the looked better than many a man. Or was it just his general presence in a room? He was always there, always by the king's side, protecting him from his silent position. Maybe it was the seemingly lack of spirit he showed that made others despise him, though they would never admit such out loud. Only Cassander had no problem with that.

But more than anything, men _envied_ Hephaestion through their hate. From his good grace with the king, Hephaestion always managed to get everything. Alexander always gave him the best rooms, the best clothes and the best horse in the royal stables after Bucephalus. Hephaestion never asked for any of it but he got it anyway.

When Cassander looked at Hephaestion he did not see the man that others saw. Cassander would be the first, undoubtedly, to insult Hephaestion in any circumstance but even though it was his widely known opinion that, due to his Athenian birth and starkly different morals then other men, Cassander could see the change in Hephaestion more then anyone, even Alexander himself.

Bagoas made Hephaestion jealous at first but when Alexander had assured him it would never happen again he accepted it, though he still disliked the Persian eunuch. But Hephaestion's visits to Alexander's rooms grew fewer and fewer and he knew the night he was not there Bagoas was. Hephaestion could hardly look at Alexander anymore, let alone touch him or speak to him.

Roxanne made Hephaestion jealous but he understood what she was to Alexander. He was the most powerful man in the world, ruling an expansive empire that would only grow larger still. He needed an air. But Hephaestion held only contempt for the Bactrian woman.

It had been several months and Cassander could see the fury building in Hephaestion. But along with the fury came sadness and despair. Cassander felt like he could see more about Hephaestion then others. Even, it appeared, Alexander.

It was now, as Cassander sat across the table from Hephaestion, that he could see that he was right. Hepheastion stared at his beaker of wine and thoughtlessly ran a finger along the brim of the bronze cup while his other hand stayed in his lap. His long tresses fell over his shoulder on the right but stayed behind it on the left.

Hephaestion looked up at Cassander once and, though it was but for a brief second before he looked away again, Cassander could see the pain so clearly in those cerulean orbs and felt in within himself so powerfully that it was as though Hephaestion's pain was etched right into his very soul.

But at the same time, Cassander knew that there was only so much pain and suffering a man could take before he snapped. Even when that man happened to be Hephaestion Amyntor.

Cassander vowed that he would not miss the moment even if it meant sitting out the next battle.

In the end, it was Parmenion that finally called order to the meeting of the Companions with a clearing of his throat. "Alexander," he said powerfully. Alexander set down his now empty goblet and looked at Parmenion, waiting for him to continue so that he might go back to drinking and laughing with the men that he didn't even know were competing for him. Alexander hardly seemed aware of Hephaestion's presence by his side.

"There have been reports," Parmenion continued, "that there are rebellions staging among some of the men here in Bactria."

Alexander remained silent and took another sip from his wine.

But the news had Hephaestion's attention who, no matter what happened, would always protect his king.

Parmeniom, apparently seeming unnerved at the silence that met him, continued. "It would be wise, Alexander, to stop these revolts before they have the chance to grow anymore and gain more men."

Alexander waved a hand and tilted back in his chair. "You worry too much, Parmenion!"

"Alexander," Cassander spoke up before another could, "You are aware that you are at a greater risk everyday that you allow these men to live, are you not?"

"These men, small rebellions, are no threat to me," Alexander said plainly. "Even if they did plan and stage a revolt they would never have enough men to do anything."

"Bactria is not a small city, Alexander," Philotas said and Cleitus nodded silently in agreement.

"Even if, as you claim," Cassander continued, "you are the son of Zeus, that does not make you immortal, Alexander. Gods die too, what makes _you_ so different?"

Alexander glared at Cassander, daring him to challenge him with more words. Cassander met his kings' challenge with his glare and with his words. "Is it not better to stop things like this before they have the chance to escalate to a beginning?"

"No one will get through the walls of this palace," Alexander said, "I can promise you that, Cassander."

Before Cassander could bite back his reply Hephaestion spoke up, his voice low and soothing as it usually was. "You should look into this, Alexander. Cassander is right."

Alexander had the sense not to look startled; it was the most Hephaestion had said to him in months. Cassander on the other hand, sat straighter in his chair. Perhaps tonight would be a free dinner _and_ a show. He could think of few things better.

"No one will get into these walls," Alexander repeated, not looking at Hephaestion.

"So you plan to let these people be led right outside the walls of your palace and yet you will not stop them?" Hephaestion spoke before he could think about the words coming from his mouth, something he very rarely did.

The room fell to a dead silence as all the Companions focused on Hephaestion and Alexander. Cassander crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Alexander finally looked at Hephaestion and this time could not help the brief shock that passed over his face and through his body at the fire in those cerulean orbs that could only have been gifted by the gods. But Alexander quickly composed himself and met Hephaestion's gaze as only a king as confident as himself could when faced with his dearest friend and general and his lover.

"You worry too much, Hephaestion," Alexander said calmly, lacing his fingers across his lower abdomen as he leaned back. "You overestimate the power of a few rebels."

"No. It is you, Alexander, that underestimates _them_." Cassander could see the brief pleading in Hephaestion's eyes but it soon diminished, floating away in the form of a ghost. Hephaestion had, perhaps, finally broken. "Come, Alexander!" Hephaestion spoke louder then many had ever heard him speak before. "Use your senses! What should happen if they gain a leader, one that can organize an attack? Suppose they have allies here in this palace? Could one not easily slip poison into the food you eat or the wine you drink?" Hephaestion waved a hand over his barely touched wineglass.

"Hephaestion…" Alexander said, his voice low in warning.

Hephaestion pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "I will do the right thing by protecting you as always," he said. He glanced over the table. "Come, Cassander, Cleitus." The two men looked at Hephaestion but made no move to stand. "We will stop these men before they have the chance to rise."

"There will be no man to rise against me, Hephaestion! By all the gods, by Zeus, by Hera herself, have I not taken one of their own as my wife? As the Macedonia queen? I wish to cause these people no harm; nothing can say that more then taking one of their women."

Fury burned in Hephaestion's eyes and the cerulean pools seemed to grow several shades darker in a rush. "That woman is not fit to be queen! You make a mockery of Macedonia to call her _our_ queen!" Hephaestion placed his fist on his left breast, above his heart.

"Sit down, Hephaestion," Alexander's voice dropped even lower and his eyes flashed, a sure sign of his anger.

"Who do you think is going to stop these men when they finally have enough force behind them?" Hephaestion turned and addressed the rest of the room that watched him in silent awe. "We will!" he hit his hand to his chest. "We will clean up the mess that our king chooses to make because he sees himself as immortal! But we are not all immortal, are we? Someday, Alexander," Hephaestion turned back to him, "you will have the blood of your Companions, the men who have stood behind you since before Phillip's murder, since we were but youths learning under Aristotle, on your hands."

"Sit down, Hephaestion," Alexander's voice rose as he too got to his feet. "Your blood shall never stain my hands, Hephaestion," he added but not an ounce of hostility left Hephaestion. "I swear it for all the gods to hear it, your blood will _never_ be brought by my own hands!"

"I am sick," Hephaestion said in a lower voice, hardly seeming to pass a second of thought to Alexander's low spoken vow, "of taking your every last order and doing it without complaint. I've seen the thanks I get for taking care of you and watching your back and… and I'm finished with it."

Cassander leaned forwards and placed his elbows on the table.

"God dammit, Hephaestion!" Alexander roared and stepped aggressively towards Hephaestion. "Sit down!"

Hephaestion regarded him with stoic silence that only seemed to spurn Alexander's rage.

"I will not ask again. Sit _down_, Hephaestion."

"Are you so damned sure that you are Achilles reborn that you risk everything?"

"And you, Hephaestion, are my Patroclus," Alexander said. "Sit down. Do this one thing and I shall ask no more of you. I warn you, Hephaestion, sit down. It is for your own good. I will not be responsible for hurting you."

"No. It is never your fault, is it? Somehow you will blame it on another or perhaps the wine that you have cons—" Hephaestion's sentence came to an abrupt stop as he found his back pressed firmly against the stone wall, Alexander's chest pressing against his, using one hand to pin back his shoulders and the other to grab his chin.

Several of the men rose, Cassander included, but no one dared take more then a few steps towards Alexander and Hephaestion.

Hephaestion remained calm, his chest only rising and falling rapidly from the surprise of this turn of events. He knew that he should back down now and plead for forgiveness; he would willingly take whatever punishment Alexander chose fit. But he did not step down. He _could not_ step down.

"What, in the name of Zeus," Alexander spat the god's name in Hephaestion's face but Hephaestion did no more then blink, "gives you the right to speak to me in such a way? You are not the king here, Hephaestion."

Hephaestion, wise again for the moment, remained silent.

"Alexander, be reasonable!" the voice that shouted out and the body that stepped around the table surprised no one more then Cassander himself. It took him a moment to realize it was himself and not another that had spoken.

Alexander did not step away from Hephaestion but he made no further move at him so Cassander stopped several strides away from the pair.

"Look at what you are doing, Alexander! Look at just who you are attacking," Cassander advised. "Hephaestion speaks the truth. Stop these men! There can't be many of them, they can be stopped to_night_! But you have already done enough damage here tonight. You may attack me and Cleitus and Philotas and any of the others but never would anyone have thought you to attack Hephaestion! What is happening to us when you do not even listen to Hephaestion anymore, Alexander? For we all know that he is as much king as you are!"

Alexander let go of Hephaestion then, but only so he could lunge at Cassander who nimbly stepped aside.

"Alexander!" the raised voice stopped Alexander from lunging at Cassander again, this time with his dagger in his hand.

Alexander didn't look back at Hephaestion though. "You _men_!" he spat. "I should have you arrested and killed this very moment!"

"You will not do it though," Cassander said, perhaps putting his foot in water that did not need to be tested.

"It seems that, indeed, Ptolemy was right!" Alexander spread his arms wide and faced the rest of the men that were now on their feet. "Wealth in great quantities corrupts! It is just as Aristotle taught us when we were boys but I never expected it to come down to this! Which ones of you are against me this very moment?" Wisely though, no man made even the slightest move. "I've given you gold and finery and granted you permission to Darius's harem! It is destroying you all!"

"Alexander," Hephaestion spook again, his voice softer now, "perhaps you should—"

"Do not speak!" Alexander roared, turning on Hephaestion, his dagger still clasped in his hand. Hephastion took a step backwards, back towards the wall that he had recently been pinned against.

"I never expected you—you of all people, Hephaestion!—to turn your back on me…" sadness was laced through the anger in Alexander's voice.

"I have not turned my back, Alexander," Hephaestion said, dropping his fighting stance and relaxing his shoulders as his voiced calmed, a sure sign that his anger was ebbing away. "You must know that I could never do such a thing!"

"Patroclus never deserted Achilles!"

"And I am not deserting you, Alexander! Do you not think that if you were not able to go into battle that I would not take your spot as Patroclus did Achilles'? I would take your place in any battle if it kept you out of it!" Hephaestion's voice rose once again.

"My mother was right," Alexander said, flinging the final throw to Hephaestion in their battle of words. "She said you were just like all the others. You didn't love _me_, just the _idea_ of me and what I _am_."

Hephaestion's resolve staggered for a moment and he fought to find the words to tell Alexander that this was not true.

"Never defy me again!" Alexander roared, stepping closer to Hephaestion once again. Hephaestion looked shocked, as though he wondered just how they had been reduced to this. "You take your orders from me and do exactly as I say! You are _mine_, Hephaestion, make no mistake of it!"

Hephaestion's cerulean eyes flashed with his pain once again. Cassander was helpless to do anything but watch. It was not meant to go this far…

"You do not own me."

"Damn _you_, Hephaestion! I am your king!"

"You do not own me!" Hephaestion said again, this time with more power and conviction in his voice.

Alexander yelled out in rage and lunged at Hephaestion with his fists and dagger. Hephaestion's hands shot up to protect himself just as any man would do in the situation and the dagger sliced through the palm of his left hand. Hephaestion gripped his hand and gritted his teeth but took the pain of his wound in silence. The wound had gone deep and would need stitches, already blood flowed freely through it. Hephaestion staggered back against the wall, fighting the sudden dizziness in his head.

Alexander froze as he caught sight of the blood on his dagger and the weapon fell to the floor with a clatter. His dark eyes were as big and wide as a child's who knew they had just been caught doing something wrong and knowing that he would be punished for it.

Alexander took a shaky step towards Hephaestion and reached out a hand and laid it on his arm. "Phae…" he whispered, his voice choked with tears.

Hephaestion flinched away from Alexander's touch and glared. "Do not touch me!"

"Phae, I—" Alexander stepped towards him again only to have Hephaestion restore the distance back to its original.

"Do not call me that," Hephaestion said again through gritted teeth. "My name is Hephaestion. I never liked that ridiculous nickname. I think, Alexander, that I would like to keep the honor I have left and be called _General Hephaestion_."

Alexander stepped backwards until he fell into a chair at the table.

Cassander made a move towards Hephaestion but Hephaestion threw out a hand to keep him away. Cassander, not knowing precisely what had provoked him to approach Hephaestion in the first place, stopped.

Hephaestion slowly let go of his wounded hand and spread his palm flat despite the pain that shot up his arm as the wound seemed to stretch further apart. He looked at the blood pooling in his palm and dripping to the stone floor in a daze. Then his eyes traveled to the dagger and finally to the daggers owner who was currently shaking in his seat, tears streaking his handsome face.

Hephaestion started towards the doors but stopped and turned to Alexander. He grabbed Alexander's wrist and Alexander was too in shock to protest. Hephaestion pressed his wounded palm against Alexander's for several long, excruciating seconds before he pulled it away and flung Alexander's hand back to him.

Hephaestion continued to the doors once more, only stopping halfway through them and to look one last time at Alexander and say, with a whiff of sadness in his voice, "Your vow seems to have meant nothing in the end, for now you have my blood on your hands; blood that was brought by your own hand, my king."

**a/n: **soooo?? Let me know if you would like to read more with a REVIEW! -Steph


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note—**

Thank you SO much for all the great reviews! They all made me smile… and, if time permits it, will always review to the reviews from people logged in or that leave an email address… most of the time. Even if I don't reply, I completely appreciate your reviews! Actually, I've been busy so I'll start the replies for the reviews for this chapter and on!!

But I'm glad a lot of you seemed to like the end!

So this is a pretty fast update… nothing wrong with that though. And… I don't have much to say besides I hope you enjoy this chapter, too!

Review!

Steph

**UNTIL THE END**

**Chapter 2 **

Hephaestion's cloak billowed against the back of his legs as he moved swiftly down the dimly lit halls. His teeth were clenched tightly together and his eyes narrowed straight ahead, ignoring the politely bowed heads he got from the few others in the halls. Usually he would spare them all a nod of his own at the least but not tonight.

His right hand clenched his wounded left tightly in front of his chest. Hephaestion tried not to think of the sticky liquid that seeped through his fingers; both of his hands were now coated in it. He never knew that so much blood could come from one hand.

But there is was. A hot, sticky, painful reminder of what he had just done. Forever he would be haunted by the scars, both the physical scar across his hand and the scar within him. Not only had he publicly insulted Alexander but he had questioned his judgment as king, as well.

Even whilst they were hardly speaking to each other, and as Hephaestion even consciously distanced himself from Alexander, there was still the sliver of hope that things would just go back to how they used to be before Alexander had conquered Persia and arrived in Babylon. But now that was done with. Never again would things be the same. Never again would they be the same people they had been as youths and as young men.

Hephaestion swept into his rooms, the great wooden doors closing with a loud clatter in his wake. He moved throughout the spacious rooms quickly, moving towards the bathing room.

His page, Lyones, moved quickly from the dark corner he had stationed himself in immediately upon Hephaestion's presence in the room. Usually he stayed hidden unless called upon, sometimes even slipping unseen from the room if Hephaestion had company, but tonight Hephaestion was not as he was usually. His lord never slammed doors or practically ran through the rooms.

"My lord," Lyones cleared his throat just loud enough to grab Hephaestion's attention. Hephaestion stopped his rush for the bathing room and turned on his heel to face Lyones. The first thing Lyones saw was Hephaestion's flushed face and the glimmering eyes, but he could easily recognize that both were caused by anger and frustration. And then his eyes moved down and caught sight of Hephaestion's right hand clasped tightly around his left and the coppery crimson of the blood running between his fingers. Lyones looked to the floor and stuttered, "My lord, d-do you—"

"A bowl of water, Lyones," Hephaestion interrupted his page. "And a towel. Quickly!"

Lyones started towards the bathing room before he remembered himself and pulled a small cloth from the belt around his waist. He quickly set the rag on the tabletop by Hephaestion's side before dashing to the bathing room.

To pick up the small rag, Hephaestion had to let go of his wounded hand. When the pressure his right had exerted upon the wound was gone, the gash seemed to reopen and cause a fresh spasm of pain up his arm. Hephaestion gritted his teeth once more but made no other move that would have indicated his pain.

His fingers slipped against each other as he reached for the small cloth and the sensation very nearly made him sick. Hephaestion had not a problem with the blood of others, though he would rather it be inside than out, but the sight of his own blood did something to him.

Hephaestion fruitlessly tried to clean some of the blood up from his hands but the process was awkward and almost completely ineffective.

After what seemed like ages, Lyones returned with a large, intricately designed and painted, Bactrian pottery bowl and two towels draped over his shoulder. He moved as fast as he dared to without fear of splashing the water on the floor. Already his hands were shaking and his heart fast. Lyones set the bowl carefully in front of Hephaestion and gently laid the towels down next to it.

Hephaestion immediately sunk his hand into the cool water. Hephaestion's eyes were focused on the far wall so he did not see the bright blood swirl and mix into the water as Lyones did. The blood funneled and swirled in a sick dance. Hephaestion eventually removed his right hand and quickly whipped it dry on the top towel before gingerly lifting his left hand from the bowl as well.

Lyones retained a gasp. Hephaestion's hand, now that it was not coated in blood, was slit diagonally from the area between his thumb and his forefinger to the bottom right of his palm. The cut was clean but deep and already blood seeped through the parted flesh once more.

"M-my lord," Lyones felt his face flush. He'd never been a boy that was cut out for war or the sight of blood. It was why he was so grateful to Hephaestion, for Hephaestion was a kind master who never lashed out at him or subjected him to the army. "Shall I fetch a physician for you?" he offered, perhaps stepping beyond his rank.

"No," Hephaestion said. He paused briefly before speaking again, his eyes were not on Lyones, but now riveted on his hand in the now murky water. "But do you know what you can do for me?"

"My lord?"

"Go and fetch two guards, I do not care where you get them from, just get them. Tell them that General Hephaestion has sent you. Bring them back here and station them outside the doors. Tell them they are not to leave unless another can step in their place. They are not to let _any_one—anyone at all—into these rooms unless I permit it," Hephaestion's voice brewed with anger once again.

"My lord," Lyones said once again and bowed his head in respect, though Hephaestion did not see it, before he quickly departed the rooms silently.

-------------

No one had done so much as dared to move, let alone speak, since Hephaestion had left the room. Several of the Companions, Cassander among them, were on their feet, while the others still sat in their chairs around the long table.

Alexander had not moved at all from his slumped position in his chair, ironically the one that Hephaestion had previously occupied, other then to raise his hands to his face. His shoulders did not shake and he made no sound so no one knew if he was crying or merely in shock. Cassander would say that the king cried silent tears.

The silence in the room was daunting; the servants in the corners did not dare, now more then ever, to make the slightest movement at all. It was as though the first to speak or make any movement would be the last for them.

Cassander, though undaunted by Alexander's presence as some were, though he vividly remembered the time Alexander had pinned him to the wall quite like he had just done to Hephaestion, was the first to move. He did not speak. There was a force that seemed to make his legs move and he was the second Companion to leave the rooms that night.

The others stared after him; Alexander heard his departure but made no move to stop him. Alexander, perhaps for the best, had not caught the look of utter loath that Cassander pinned on him.

Cassander blindly wound through the halls, the flames of the lantern flickering along his path, to where he knew Hephaestion's rooms to be. Hephaestion's rooms were, as always, among the grandest the city could offer and were quite conveniently close to Alexander's… not that that was something that Hephaestion would be thankful for now.

Cassander paused only for the briefest of moments outside Hephaestion's doors before entering without a knock. Hephaestion would have refused him entrance, though that should not have deterred Cassander.

Cassander scanned the vast rooms with his dark, assertive eyes before spotting Hephaestion. Hephaestion was standing before a table, his back turned to Cassander. Hephaestion made no move to indicate any awareness of Cassander's presence, but Cassander knew it to be entirely impossible to sneak up on the man.

"I told Lyones to fetch guards," was the first thing that Hephaestion said. His voice seemed strained, though it was still powerful as it filled the rooms.

"There was no one outside the doors," Cassander said softly. "He must not've gotten back yet." Cassander moved closer to Hephaestion and came to stand by his side, though the Athenian still did not look at him.

Hephaestion's left hand lay listlessly in a bowl of dark, cloudy water and his right gripped the edge of the table.

"Why are you here?" Hephaestion finally asked.

Cassander did not respond, instead, he took a step closer to Hephaestion and, ignoring the obvious tension in Hephaestion's wide shoulders, gently clasped his fingers around Hephaestion's left wrist. Hephaestion allowed his hand to be lifted from the water. Cassander's other hand gently moved over Hephaestion's tightly squeezed together hand and gently eased back his fingers so he could see the damage that had been done to it.

If Cassander was surprised by the length and depth of the wound or disgusted by the blood that still came from the wound and trickled down Hephaestion's wrist to the tips of the fingers of Cassander's hand that still held Hephaestion's wrist, he made no indication of it.

"You are lucky you did not lose your hand," Cassander said simply.

Hephaestion found it to be a typical Cassander thing to say but there was no sarcasm or scathing at all in his voice.

Cassander gently placed Hephaestion's hand back in the bowl of dirty water, even though he knew it did no good to his hand to be in there. Cassander, in turn, swiftly tore a strip from the driest and least bloody part of the towel. He then lifted Hephaestion's hand from the bowel again and carefully laid the towel strip over the gash. The muscles in Hephaestion's arm twitched as Cassander did this and Cassander couldn't help but regret causing Hephaestion anymore pain that night.

"I am sorry," Cassander uttered softly, so softly that Hephaestion wasn't sure he had really heard it, as he tied the towel over the top of his palm, pulling it tight. Hephaestion hissed in pain and snatched his hand away as the fabric irritated the wound and pulled it closer together once more.

Hephaestion's right hand immediately found its place around the left again and he held it tightly against his chest.

Cassander was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "You'll need to see Philip or another physician right away. It will need stitches to be closed treated or you risk infection."

"Then get him for me," Hephaestion said.

Though Cassander was absolutely loath to submit to Hephaestion's command on any occasion, he did as he bid that night.

Without speaking another word, Cassander turned and left Hephaestion's rooms as silently as he had entered them. Now, as he left, he could see the guards that were being installed outside the doors. They were big, burly men with bulging muscles on their arms and legs. They wore leather breast plates and gold helmets and each held a long spear in their hands.

Lyones backed away from Cassander and bowed to his in respect. "My lord."

"I'm going to fetch a physician for the general," Cassander said curtly.

"My lord," Lyones repeated.

Cassander left then, knowing that he had said enough to be allowed to peacefully reenter Hephaestion's rooms. As he moved through the dimly lit halls, he couldn't help but smirk as he thought of Hephaestion's motives for stationing guards at his doors. They were, above all, to keep Alexander away and the others would know it soon enough. It was quite brave of Hephaestion in all actuality.

Gruff laughter filtered down the hall that Cassander was walking, knowing it to be the quickest route to the physicians' rooms.

Nearchus, Cleitus and Philotas walked three abreast towards Cassander.

"There you are, Cassander!" Cleitus bellowed out, his voice bouncing off the walls around them. "We were wondering where you had gotten to. Come, we're going to Philotas's rooms to celebrate!"

Cassander was silent as he walked closer to them. But he couldn't resist saying one word. "Celebrate?"

"Yes," Philotas said. "This magnificent break between the king and his lovely whore deserves some sort of celebration, does it not, Cassander?"

Cassander was appalled at the words Philotas spoke and the looks on all three of their faces. "When a man, one of your own no less," Cassander began, as calmly as he could muster, "is suffering then you should not celebrate."

"But you hate that bastard, Cassander!" Cleitus said. Cleitus had, perhaps, had more then his fair share of wine at the meeting.

"Perhaps," Cassander agreed. "But not even Hephaestion deserves this."

"You didn't go off to see of his condition when you left, did you?" Nearchus asked now, aghast.

"Where are you off to now?" Philotas jumped in.

"I do not think that Hephaestion will be much use to this campaign with a lame and crippled hand. How shall he fight then? And we all know that Hephaestion is, above all, an important figure, presence and influence in this army."

"But to rush to the man's defense?" Nearchus said. "It cannot me more then a scratch," he waved his hand to dismiss it. "Hephaestion has never had the stomach for war or any of the occasions that come with it. Let him tend to himself, he does not need others to fetch him doctors when he could do it himself. Come with us, Cassander. Philotas has some good wine and some beautiful Bactrian women in his rooms."

"As I have said, Nearchus, Hephaestion is no use in this army with only one hand," Cassander repeated. "Make no mistake of it," he warned in a lower voice and he stepped closer to the three other generals. "I hate that son of a whore as much as the rest of you. But no man deserves to be physically assaulted by his king and then ignored by the council of his peers. Not even Hephaestion." With that, Cassander started down the hall again, his dark cloak swirling as he rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Nearchus, Philotas and Cleitus were silent for a moment before they laughed once more and continued on their way to Philotas's rooms and the promises that those rooms were said to hold.

-------------

While Philota, Cleitus and Nearchus celebrated the fall of Hephaestion, Cassander found his way to the physicians' quarters. The halls of the physicians' chambers were darker then the rest and slightly dank, with the fair smell of the sick in the air.

Cassander paid no attention to the sick rooms on either side of him and went directly to the room where the physicians slept. He swung the door open with a bang and entered.

Alexander had about fifteen physicians that traveled with him on the campaigns, along as several score more that were in training. Several of the physician's were currently seated around their rooms, reading books or writing on parchment. All looked up upon hearing the racket of Cassander's unannounced and uninvited entrance.

Several of the men stood hastily when they saw Cassander but Cassander paid them no mind.

His dark eyes scoured the room. "Where is Philip?" he demanded, naming the most qualified and trusted of Alexander's physicians.

Philip came forth from the shadows that surrounded his poorly lit reading desk and bowed to Cassander. Philip was a middle-aged man with a kind, wrinkled face and wise eyes. His hair was gradually turning to a soft gray-white and he wore the traditional, white Macedonian dress, a dark sash tied around his waist.

"How can I be of service to you, my lord?" Philip asked.

"Hephaestion has called for you," Cassander said. He said nothing more but waited impatiently as Philip gathered up his things quickly. When the physician was prepared, Cassander swept swiftly from the room. Philip almost had to jog to keep up with the younger mans stride.

The guards outside Hephaestion's rooms stepped aside and caused no trouble as they saw Cassander and Philip approaching.

The guards only made Philip worry more. There had been no battles lately and Hephaestion was not one to pick fights, or indulge in them at all, with any man. The only possibilities, in Philip's mind, that were left were that Hephaestion was ill or had stumbled and injured his hand or leg, perhaps hit his head, though he knew Hephaestion to be a most careful man, rarely, if ever at all, did he stumble upon something. Perhaps an attack had been made against Hephaestion, which would explain the guards.

There was also Cassander to take into consideration. Cassander, Philip knew, had never cared deeply enough about others, especially Hephaestion, to summon physicians for them.

Philip was worried as he entered Hephaestion's rooms though his face was composed.

Cassander walked immediately towards the table where Hephaestion had been when he had left him. The bowl of bloodied water had been replaced with fresh, clear water. Lyones stepped forwards but did not announce himself. Cassander noticed him and Lyones nodded towards the couches by the doors that led to the balcony.

Hephaestion, Cassander could now see, was sprawled along one of the couches on his back. He had changed into a pair of dark blue, Persian silk trousers that had turquoise trim. Though he wore the matching robe, it lay open and his powerful chest was revealed. The scrap of towel that Cassander had tied around Hephaestion palm was still there and his hand rested on his chest. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful, like Cassander imagined he would have look he had been asleep.

Cassander pushed Philip forwards, towards Hephaestion, and the man stumbled but quickly regained his footing. He knelt by Hephaestion's side, thinking that perhaps the general had gotten sickness and had fainted.

Cassander came to stand behind the couch. "His hand," he said and Philip immediately lifted the hand that lay across Hephaestion's chest, now he could see the makeshift bandage tied around it. He untied the towel piece and peeled it away from Hephaestion's hand, the blood that had soaked through the thin towel made it stick to Hephaestion's hand and Hephaestion moaned almost inaudibly as it was taken away.

Philip quickly scanned Hephaestion's palm before setting it down and rummaging through his things. "I need water and a towel," he said aloud.

Cassander turned to tell Hephaestion's page to do the physician's bidding but the boy was already holding the bowl of water and a towel was over his shoulder. He walked quickly to Philip's side and placed the bowl and towel by his side before quietly retreating into the darkness once more.

Though the wound still bled, the blood flow had stopped substantially, Cassander noted with uncalled for relief.

Philip went about his work cleaning the wound quickly and swiftly. Hephaestion's eyes were still closed and he did not even make a movement when Philip pierced his skin with the needle repeatedly as he stitched the wound expertly back together.

Philip must have noticed Cassander's look, or felt his presence since he did not look up from his work, as he said, using the well practiced voice that he used to assure his patients and their visitors, "Several veins were cut through so the blood loss must have been great. He's likely passed out from dizziness to the head. It happens frequently with blood loss victims."

"He'll be able to use the hand again though," Cassander said.

"In all likelihood, yes. It just has to be kept clean and away from infection," Philip said as he finished with the stitches. "The knife— that's what I'm suspecting caused the wound judging by the cleanness of the cut—went deep and may have grazed the bones in his hands, though there is not much I can do about that. He may feel nauseous when he awakens, and he may have a headache. I'll leave a salve that should be put on the wound twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening. I'd also request that he wraps it in something at all other times, a piece of fabric would work fine, to keep it clean."

Philip cleaned up his station and Lyones came to receive the bowl of water and the dirtied towel along with the other things Philip had used on Hephaestion that needed to be disposed of.

Philip stood up and looked to Cassander for further instructions, but the general was not looking at him. He was looking down at Hephaestion. Philip decided to take his leave silently and inconspicuously. Before he could make it from the rooms though, Cassander's reflective voice stopped him, "If you have any complaints against the king and the way he conducts himself," Cassander said, "do not make them known. If it had been any other man, he would have been run through on the spot."

Philip did not know how to respond so he did not. He waited a moment and, when Cassander said no more, left Hephaestion's rooms.

Cassander crossed to the other side of the couch and sat on the low table, facing Hephaestion. He was lost in though; staring at Hephaestion's closed eyes when the blank lids were replaced with the vivid cerulean orbs.

"You should not have said that to Philip," Hephaestion said quietly, his voice hoarse.

"The man would think you had run into another man's dagger before he thought you'd been attacked," Cassander said with scorn, though he knew it was not true. "Would you have him think you a careless sort of man who did such things?"

Hephaestion was silent. "Why did I do it, Cassander?" he finally asked, his eyes sad and searching.

"Do what?"

"You know." Hephaestion turned his head away from Cassander and closed his eyes once more.

"You said nothing that Alexander did not need to hear," Cassander said carefully. "You said nothing he did already know we felt."

"I insulted him and his wife and questioned his judgment and his control."

"Everyone feels that way about the queen, Hephaestion," Cassander said. "He didn't listen to any of us though. He's already condemned himself by taking her but perhaps he needed to hear it from you."

"I should have kept such thoughts to myself."

"Come, Hephaestion," Cassander said, leaning forwards on the table, his elbows pressing into his knees and his hands dangling over them into thr air. "Do not give into him. Tonight you proved that you were not the man others thought you to be. You _can_ fight back. Don't give Alexander the satisfaction of having you crawl back to him like a wounded animal again. He has caused you pain, Hephaestion, so many times, I can tell. Does he not deserve to feel some of that pain back?"

"He is the king, Cassander."

"And _you_ are Hephaestion."

"I am not the king."

"This army and Macedonia would be far better off if was you leading them rather then Alex_ander_," Cassander said boldly.

"You should not say such things," Hephaestion said. "What do you gain? Do you seek to make such a mockery of me? Your feelings are well known. As are those of the other men. What are you trying to do here, Cassander?"

"I do not hate you, Hephaestion," Cassander said.

"Hmmm," Hephaestion murmured but said no more.

"You should go to bed," Cassander said, standing up from the table and clasping his hands together behind his back. "Lyones should be capable of assisting you should you require it." Cassander turned his back on Hephaestion and strode to the door.

Hephaestion's musical laugh followed him. Hephaestion pushed himself up into a sitting position using his good hand and watched Cassander's retreating back. "Good night, Cassander," he said. "And you may not believe it, but I appreciate what you have done for me this evening."

Cassander allowed himself a smile before he turned to Hephaestion once more. "No, Hepheastion. Let _me_ thank _you_ for what you will do for all of us."

Hephaestion smiled in return and nodded his head before Cassander left his rooms in a swish of his cloak.

Once the doors had been closed, Hephaestion moved his legs over the side of the couch until he was sitting traditionally. He fought back the slight wave of dizziness and nausea in his head and picked up his left hand. He held it before his face, turning it this way and that, examining the piece of cloth that Philip had used to bind it with.

How surreal it all was.

Alexander had inflicted emotional wounds on Hephaestion a number of times. All of them had been internal, within himself for no one else to see, for him to suffer through alone. But now Alexander had lashed out at him physically. There would forever be a scar to mark this day, the day that Hephaestion had finally stood up for himself and spoken aloud his true opinions for other besides Alexander to hear.

And now Alexander had Hephaestion's blood upon his hands. Blood that the king had brought on by his own hand that had clasped his own dagger. But it was not only in the obvious, physical sense that Hephaestion's blood now stained his hands.

Alexander was not Alexander the Great without 'the Great'. Without Hephaestion, the king's best friend, confidant, lover and so much more, there was no 'the Great'. Hephaestion knew this; now, for once, was his time. Alexander could not control him. Because without Hephaestion, Alexander was not Alexander the Great… he was just, simply, Alexander.

**a/n: **hope you liked! REVIEW! -Steph


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note—**

Thanks for all the reviews! They're all appreciated. I'm glad you all think Hephaestion is doing the right thing! I think, as a lot of you do too, that Alexander needs some time to make his feelings known, which I will start in this and will continue through the rest of the story. There's not THAT much in this chapter because I like writing Hephaestion and Cassander more but there will be plenty of Alexander in the next chapter! And I enjoyed the mixed reactions about Cassander. I think that Cassander can offer Hephaestion things that Alexander can't and Hephaestion could love Cassander… but maybe a bit differently than he loves Alexander. I'm not going to say anything regarding anything romance-like, I'm still debating whether or not to come out with it or make it more subtle. But, yes, expect more Cassander D

So, here's the chapter!

Oh. And I almost forgot! I'm introducing a new character in this chapter! She's an original character but the existence of someone like her in Hephaestion's service in not doubtful. Her name is basically a bunch of letters stemming off of the word "hammer" ::snickers:: it's your appearance Hikari Schezar!! If you see any dodgy names, then I made them up. I've never been good with names… just a warning.

Review!

-Steph

Sorry to everyone who I told this chapter was going to be out Sunday/Monday or around them! I had a physics report and a history project and just didn't have enough time. Why do schools always give you MORE work right before a break? Seriously…

**UNTIL THE END**

**Chapter 3**

Alexander sat out on his balcony in the early morning. He was not usually an early riser but he'd found that he had had trouble sleeping during the night and awoke frequently. Finally, he restituted himself to the balcony with a cup of hot tea.

When the sun rose, the sky was flooded with brilliant oranges, purples and pinks. The birds began to chirp and small animals skirted around the land. The shadows of night were gone and a new day had begun.

Everything seemed completely ordinary… expected… even pleasant.

But, for Alexander, the day would bring nothing pleasant.

Verbally reprimanding Hephaestion was, while not something he ever thought he would have had to do, perfectly acceptable. He would not be the first general to be put into his place, and he certainly would not be that last. But lashing out at Hephaestion, coming at him with a weapon…

It was, above all else, the decision and action that Alexander wished he could take back above all else.

Alexander stood and tossed his cup aside, turning his back before he could see it clatter to the floor. He crossed his vast rooms and picked up his dagger from the table that Bagoas had placed it upon. Alexander himself had thrown it to the ground upon entering.

He had not looked at it since the night before, had had no desire to ever see it again. But seeing it now brought a clench to his stomach. Faint rays of sunlight streamed into the room and caught off of the blade and the inlain jewels in the handle. The sun clearly illuminated the darker spots on the sharp blade.

Alexander could still see the blood that had seeped from Hephaestion's hand quite clearly in his mind, but seeing it in front of him, and on his own dagger, was a sickening, oddly perverse way of reminding him of what had happened.

The affects of the wine he had consumed had vanished the moment Hephaestion had backed away from him, his palm slashed and his eyes, those beautiful cerulean orbs, hard. But Alexander had never been so drunk that he did not know what he did. Yes, he had acted irrationally but… always there was a part of him that knew.

Alexander tossed the dagger to the floor once more with a grimace of disgust.

He went back onto the balcony and looked upon Balkh. The city was beginning to tire him so. He no longer desired to have them as friends and allies. Captives seemed to seem much better to him now. It would appear that nothing good was to come from his time spent in Balkh. He had a wife yes, but he'd lost Hephaestion.

The sounds of city life were beginning to start below.

Alexander turned back into his rooms and dressed quickly. He strapped a fresh dagger to the side of the smooth Persian silks. He would talk to Hephaestion, yes, and Hephaestion would forgive him as he always did. Alexander had made a mistake and Hephaestion was never able to see Alexander in a bad light. The dagger was merely for show, if he did not have some sort of weapon on his body he would seem weak, it would seem as though he were giving into one man. Alexander was not _weak_.

Alexander then left the room silently.

As he walked through the gradually brightening halls, the few servants that walked the halls stopped and stepped aside to allow their king to pass. Each one bowed in respect and devotion to the fair-haired man they knew only as Alexander the Great, King of Macedon, Great King of Persia, Pharaoh of all Egypt, rebirthed Achilles… and if any of them cared that the Great King hardly seemed to notice their presence, they did not show it.

Already news of the happenings on the previous eve had spread through the servants ranks. King Alexander and struck the General Hephaestion! And everyone knew, even before Alexander's great and vast army was upon them, that the General Hephaestion was more to King Alexander than a mere general… the General was Patroclus to Alexander's Achilles!

Such talk there was among the servants, the army, the people… even the Companions! The Lord Hephaestion accepted hate from the rest of his peers for the love of the king!

Oh, and the things Hephaestion was said to have said to the Great King! Did Hephaestion really insult Roxanne, _Queen_ of Macedon? Did he really verbally doubt the king's judgment and authority? Did Hephaestion really lash out at Alexander as well? There were no ways for them to know what the truth of the happenings behind the closed doors of the meeting room really were. Servants and common folk had a tendency to embellish their tales, add to the grandeur and the drama of almost any affair they could get their hands on. But they needed some excitement and variety in their otherwise tediously led lives so they'd take what they could get.

The fact was, the detail hardly mattered. It was the concept now, among all else, that intrigued them. The details varied with each telling of the tale but the minimum of the story remained the same: Alexander had struck Hephaestion. The tellings leaned towards Alexander's dagger striking Hephaestion rather than his fists. And there were a few who claimed to have seen the physician Philip summoned to Hephaestion's rooms by none other than the Lord Cassander. And was that a stain of blood, some said, that they saw on Philip's white robes once he had left Hephaestion's rooms?

The guards Hephaestion had ordered at his doors had moved no more than to switch the weight on their feet and to adjust their hands on their heavy wooden spears in the night. Hephaestion had never before called guards to his doors, Alexander had stationed guards outside the doors when they had first arrived in Balkh but Hephaestion had appealed to the king and the guards had been dismissed. The presence of guards outside the doors to Hephaestion's personal quarters meant something, if nothing else did.

Alexander had not yet been made aware of the guards' presence, though many others had seen. He stopped a good deal down the hall from the rooms he sought when he saw the guards there. The guards had seen him but did not recognize him as their king. All they saw was a figure approaching the rooms and they moved closer together and stood up straighter.

Alexander was baffled. Guards? Stationed by Hephaestion? Had he made the gravest mistake of all this time and truly pushed Hephaestion away?

Alexander knew what they were for; to keep him out, he realized with a painful tightening in his chest. The tightening was quickly replaced with a burning Alexander recognized all too well. Anger. It came upon him in waves he could scarcely control and he was plagued with their mirth.

No man, Alexander's thoughts exploded as he eyed the guards once more. No man, not even Hephaestion, could retaliate against the king in so public a gesture. The guards would be gone by noon; he'd speak to Hephaestion himself and his general would soon see the error of his ways. And Alexander would apologize… yes, apologize.

He stood for a moment longer in thought before he lifted his feet once again and veered down another hallway. He would need to find Ptolemy or another. It was time, Alexander thought with fury rising in him once more though he tried his hardest to stop it, for another meeting of the Companions.

-----------

Hammarleya took the halls as she had once seen a beautiful, little mare flee from a mountain lion. But Hammarleya was not running from another, rather she was running _to_ another.

This morning was one that she paid no mind to the men who always gave her the most trouble, calling out crude things and making appalling gestures whenever she was near. These men, or so they fancied themselves, were the vilest, lowliest forms of beings Hammarleya could imagine. She felt dirty just being in the same corridor as them.

Hammarleya had heard, or course. Had heard of what had passed between the General Hephaestion and King Alexander. She had heard from her younger sister Tyrea who assisted in the kitchens and often brought wine to Alexander and his Companions. As soon as her duties were finished, Tyrea ran to the sick rooms where she knew her sister was tending to their brother, a soldier in Great Alexander's army, who had taken a fever a few days earlier.

Hammarleya had barely contained herself yet she stayed by he brothers side until morning.

Many a girl and woman, young and old alike, envied Hammarleya and her fortune. Lord Hephaestion was not only well qualified with his appearance, but he was polite, fair hearted and a good, kind master. Asathon, her elder brother, often provoked her, taunting her beauty and saying that perhaps she could sway the strong General away from his beloved Alexander.

Hammarleya had a pretty face and long, silky hair that was far fairer then even Alexander's. Some said it caught almost gold in the rays that shone from the sun. She was of good height, her body soft and luscious and filled with curves that were subtle yet all too apparent. Her eyes, she recalled her late father telling her when she was a young child perched on his knee, were like the rarest of gemstone, richly gray with flecks of green and blue. She looked every bit like royalty, only the fraying hems of her clothes and the worn leather of her sandals betraying her for her true position.

She was of Macedonian blood and had once lived in Pella. Her father had served under King Philip and after his death her mother had taken ill and passed shortly as well. Hammarleya and her sister were cared for by Asathon. After Alexander had been crowned king following Philip's death, Asathon had left Macedon with Alexander as a part of his foot army. Hammarleya and Tyrea were brought along and sent to work with the older women who did laundry and then into the kitchens.

Hammarleya had heard the older women speaking of her as though she were not there. They said she was much too pretty, one day, and one soon, her place would be with the women the men called upon when it pleased them. Their words had made Hammarleya flush with shame. Her fate seemed sealed when she had been brought to Alexander's rooms three years earlier when she was thirteen.

She had kept her head down as Alexander looked her over, though he never touched her or made any move towards her. He then sat upon his chair and took a drink from his cup of wine. Haamrleya's heart had hammered. Was she supposed to do something? Before she could decide, the door to Alexander's rooms had been opened and Hephaestion had entered the room.

"Alexander," Hammarleya remembered hearing him say. She could recognize his voice, though she did not yet see him. "You called for me, is there something you need?" She felt his eyes on her. "Alexander, who is she?"

Alexander stood up then and approached Hammarleya, though he still made no move to touch her. "This is Hammarleya," he said. Hammarleya was briefly surprised to hear her name from the Great Kings lips. "She is the sister of Asathon, a fine soldier in our great army. She's been in the kitchens, but would you not say that she is much too pretty to be there, Hephaesiton?" Hephaestion didn't answer and Hammarleya heard Alexander chuckle. Alexander touched her shoulder and turned her around; she could see Hephaestion's boots and his toned calves but looked no further up. Alexander stood next to Hephaestion. "She is for you, my dear companion. My gift to you."

Hephaestion said nothing for a moment and Hammarleya braved a look up to see the man she now belonged to. Hephaestion was staring at Alexander and when he finally looked upon Hammarleya, Hammarleya could not read the expression on his face and in those cerulean eyes of his.

Hephaestion cleared his throat and finally spoke, "Alexander, we have spoken of this before. I have always told you that I—"

"I know what you have told me, Hephaestion," Alexander had said. "And yet I always hope you may change your mind. Do with her what you will; I'm sure she'll be of some use to you, one way or another. I will not take her back, she is yours now. You are free to do what you want to her, give her to another man if you choose it to be so. Philotas enjoys the company of a beautiful woman, I know. Perhaps—"

"I'll find her something to do," Hephaestion had said quickly. "At the very least," he had remarked quietly next, "Lyones will have some company now."

Hammarleya had been in Hephaestion's service for three years and he had not once touched her or spoken to her in a way that was anything more then brotherly. He spoke to her and Lyones too at times. At first it had made her uncomfortable but that was no longer. She had a new protector in the General Hephaestion and a new friend in Lyones.

She was not sure how he had done it, but Hephaestion had heard that Asathon, her brother, had taken ill. Tyrea dared not brave the women of the kitchens to aide her ailing brother and Hammarleya had not either. But Hephaestion had heard and, showing the kindness he held in his heart, set her free to care for Asathon until he was well once again, with strict orders to not return until he was on his feet and wielding his spear and sword once more.

Asathon was feeling better this morning and his fever had broken in the night so Hammarleya went to tend to Hephaestion. Lyones was more then capable, she knew, and would have done his job but Hammarleya felt her need to attempt to repay the debt she owed to Hephaestion for treating her well and establishing himself as her guardian. She would not admit it to another, but she held Hephaestion close to her heart and now man, she knew, least of all the grand, kind Lord Hephaestion deserved what had happened.

As her worn sandals slapped against the floors of the halls, echoing off of the walls around her, Hammarleya's heart was filled with gratitude for Hephaestion and sorrow for what had happened. She owed Hephaestion something and, at this time, she was prepared to give him anything that he requested of her.

She, like many others, did not expect the guards that met her at the doors to Hephaestion's rooms. They let her pass though, without any trouble.

Hephaestion's rooms were still dark when she entered and she had not been inside longer than half a minute when Lyones was standing in front of her.

"Oh," he said after seeing that it was Hammarleya who had entered his lord's rooms. "It is you. I thought perhaps that you would be Lord Cassander coming again," Lyones spoke in a voice that was softer then a whisper. He spoke freely with Hammarleya, acknowledging her as a friend by doing so.

"Lord Cassander?" Hammarleya repeated, her voice equally as soft. "Why should he be here?" her confusion did not go unnoticed by Lyones, who still felt the same. Lord Cassander was known for his coldness and dislike of Hephaestion and his bravery and glory on the battlefield.

"It does not matter now," Lyones shook his head. "How is Asathon? Aren't you to be attending him?"

"Asathon is better," Hammarleya said. "I heard what happened, Lyones. Tyrea told me of it, she was in the meeting room when it happened. How is he, Lyones? I've come to see him."

"He is asleep still," Lyones said softly. "I mixed him a drink a healer once taught me so that he would sleep peacefully."

Hammarleya nodded. "Tell me, Lyones, tell me what happened, please."

Lyones took Hammarleya's arm and led her to the dark corner of the room just beyond Hephaestion's bedchamber. "You know more than I, I'd think," he said once they were seated on the carpeted floor across from each other. "I've not left these rooms, only once since last night, to fetch the guards the General called for."

"Then tell me what happened here, what happened with Lord Hephaestion, and I shall tell you what Tyrea has told me," Hammarleya said.

"Very well," Lyones nodded. "But you go first." He smiled a little as his friend scrunched up her nose.

"Fine," she consented. "Tyrea's said that one of the men, I cannot remember his name now, told King Alexander that there were rebellions rising in Bactria and the King wanted to do nothing about it. She said that Lord Hephaestion became angered when Alexander dismissed the rebel groups and they started to argue. Tyrea said that Lord Hephaestion spoke against the Queen! And that he did not listen as Alexander told him to sit when he tried to leave to fix things himself." Hammarleya paused and thought a moment. Tyrea had spoken of another man, one of the Generals of course, rising to Hephaestion's defense but she had trouble remembering the name now.

Lyones waited patiently for Hammarleya to continue. "Tyrea spoke of one of the other generals next," Hammarleya said with a frown. "Only I cannot recall his name, I was more concerned for the Lord Hephaestion," she admitted with a small blush. "The general, the one Tyrea spoke of, tried to reason with King Alexander," she said.

"Lord Cassander," Lyones said. "Was it Lord Cassander?"

Hammarleya looked at Lyones thoughtfully for a moment before nodding tentatively. "Yes, yes, I believe it was. How did you know, Lyones?"

"Never mind," Lyones shrugged. "I shall tell you after you complete your story."

Hammarleya continued with a sigh of frustration. "King Alexander had Lord Hephaestion against the wall… by force," she added and looked at the wall over Lyones's shoulder with another blush. She should not have said that, though it was not her fault that perhaps she had seen things pass between King Alexander and her General that she should not have. "I believe it was then that Lord Cassander spoke in Lord Hephaestion's defense. The king first made to attack Lord Cassander but missed him. Lord Hephaestion spoke again next and King Alexander became angered once again and struck Hephaestion with his dagger. Tyrea said it cut through Lord Hepaestion's hand. Oh, Lyones, does my sister speak the truth?" Hammarleya pleaded in a small voice.

Lyones took Hammarleya's hand in his to comfort her. They were silent for a moment before Lyones began his tale.

"Our Lord returned here and already I could see he was not himself. He asked for a bowl of water once he saw me and I got him one. I offered to fetch a physician for him, his left hand bled greatly, but he refused it. I was sent to fetch the two guards you see now by the doors. When I returned, Lord Cassander was leaving these rooms and returned with the favored physician of King Alexander, Philip. Philip cleaned Lord Hephaestion's hand and stitched the wound together. It was deep, so Philip said, but the General would be fine. Philip left and Lord Cassander spoke with Lord Hephaestion for a time before he too left. Lord Hephaestion fell asleep after I gave him the drink. Nothing has happened since."

Satisfied that her Lord was well, Hammarleya frowned. "I do not understand, Lyones. Lord Cassander? Everyone knows how he detests the Lord Hephaestion so!"

"Yes," Lyones agreed. "It is not my place to repeat the private conversations that Lord Hephaestion has, even to you, Arleya," Lyones said, hoping to soften the girl with the use of his affectionate name for her.

Hammarleya was silent for a moment. "I understand, Lyones," she said eventually in her voice that was almost no louder than a breath of air. "Tell me one thing though, my friend," she requested. "Was Lord Cassander kind?"

Lyones almost laughed, though he could not bring himself to. Sometimes Hammarleya spoke as the young woman she was. "Yes. He seemed sincere enough, I suppose. I do not understand him but he threatened no harm."

"Tell me then, Lyones—" Hammarleya began once again but stopped abruptly as the doors to Hephaestion's rooms were opened noisily. She looked around worriedly, thinking that perhaps they had been so absorbed in their conversation that they had missed Hephaestion's wakening.

Lyones, perhaps having similar thoughts, was already on his feet and moving swiftly towards the doors. Hammarleya followed closely behind.

Lyones was briefly surprised to see Cassander standing just within the doors, a scowl visible on his slim, handsome face even through the dimness of the rooms. Cassander noticed Lyones and Hammarleya and faced them. The two young people bowed their heads respectfully for the general.

"I have been sent," Cassander began, a touch of bitterness flowing through his voice, "to wake the General. A meeting has been called by the King and his presence is required."

Hammarleya remained silent and looked at the ground, as was her place to do. She would slip away, unnoticed into a dark corner when no one was watching.

"My lord," Lyones said softly, bowing his head. "The Lord Hephaestion is asleep still. I—"

"I shall wake him myself, then," Cassander cut through Lyones and Lyones fell silent, his cheeks flushed with color brought on by his embarrassment. Cassander said no more, already he was heading towards Hephaestion's bedchambers.

Lyones remained by Hammarleya's side and they watched out of the corner of their eyes as Cassander stopped by Hephaestion's bedside.

-----------

Hephaestion had been awake for some time, though he had kept his eyes closed. He knew that Lyones was near and he did not yet wish to see another. He had heard the doors open the first time and had heard Hammarleya speaking to Lyones. Their voices had disappeared but Hephaestion knew they had not left. They were talking, and of his most likely.

It was a new day, and Hephaestion thought upon his actions of the previous night with a cold bitterness in his mouth. Alexander had always asked Hephaestion's feelings and requested time and time again that Hephaestion tell him the truth. He never had though. Not completely. He doubted that Alexander had had it in his mind for him to start in view of others.

His hand burned. It was as though a fire raged beneath the skin. It was the first thing Hephaestion had been aware of upon his awakening and it would likely be the last thing he thought of before he fell asleep that night.

His muddled thoughts were broken when the door opened again, though this time it was opened with a rough force and shut closed with a small clatter. Hephaestion's breath, he was ashamed to realize, cut short for a moment. Surely Alexander wouldn't have used his rank to violate his wishes…

When he heard Cassander's voice speak to Lyones, Hephaestion sighed. Never had he been so relived to hear that malice filled voice before in his life.

It wasn't that he was scared of Alexander, Hephaestion thought and his thoughts wandered from Cassander and what would bring him to his rooms in the mornings. It was the realization of what he had done that scared him. He and Alexander… never again would they be the same. Never. Even when they weren't speaking, or hardly speaking, there was still the hope that things would be fixed…

Hephaestion's thoughts were brought back to reality when he felt a cool hand on his shoulder. The hand pushed on his shoulder once, seeming slightly unsure of what it was doing. It was not Lyones, Hephaestion knew already. Lyones's footfalls were not nearly as heavy as this mans were… as Cassander's were. And Lyones's hands had no reason to be so rough…

"Hephaestion," he heard Cassander say as he prodded his shoulder once more. "Hephaestion." Hephaestion knew he should let Cassander know he was awake, but there was something that kept his eyelids closed. "Hephaestion," Cassander said once more, his voice growing gruffer as he became at irritated at Hephaestion's lack of response. "Hephae—"

"I do not sleep," Hephaestion said finally though his eyes did not open.

Cassander's hand immediately left Hephaestion's shoulder and he stepped backwards.

"What brings you here, Cassander? It is morning, no longer the night," Hephaestion said, making no move to open his eyes or leave his bed.

"Alexander has fancied himself another meeting of the Companions," Cassander said. "He called for it to take place in an hour nearly an hour ago. The men, cowards that they are, dared not attempt to rise you so I was sent by dear, _dear_ Cleitus. The meeting is set to begin in just a few moments time. Ptolemy says that Alexander is not in a state to be reckoned with this morning, so unless you would like his knife to meet your right hand as well, I'd be up." It was harsh, Cassander knew, to add the last bit but Hephaestion was not _moving_! How the man furried him so!

Hephaestion was silent for a moment longer before he pushed himself up with his good hand and opened his eyes. Hephaestion turned his head and looked at Cassander. The man was watching him impatiently, his light eyes dancing with an emotion that was somewhere between annoyance and anger, his arms crossed across his chest and his legs parted slightly, feet planted firmly in the ground.

"Hurry, Hephaestion," Cassander requested after another moment of no moving. "You may not value your life but my time to join Hades has not yet arrived."

Hephaestion flung the furs that had covered and warmed him to the bottom of his bed and stood up, stretching his arms in front of him. He hissed almost inaudibly and dropped his arms, his right hand fastening around the left, as he tried to shake off the pain. It had felt like wound was being stretched apart once again. With his back to Cassander, Hephaestion bit his lip and attempted to straighten the stiff fingers on his left hand. They would not leave their curled position though. The skin of his palm felt hard and unmovable and even the smallest twitch of his fingers irritated it.

Cassander saw Hephaestion shoulders tense and his head dip down and he stepped forwards to see if he could be of some aide. He lifted a hand to place on Hephaestion's shoulder but changed his mind at the last moment and lowered it instead. He stood beside Hephaestion, watching as the man gazed at his shaking hand. Cassander did not allow himself to think that the only thing covering Hepahestion at the moment were a pair of thin, silk trousers. One thought did flash across his mind before he could stop it though… Hephaestion's bare chest looked like the chests of the men he had seen in the statues within Babylon… only Hephaestion looked, perhaps, better than any man made from chipped away stone could.

Cassander took a deep breath and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"Hephaestion, your hand… I could tell Alexander that you do not feel well and—"

"No, Cassander," Hephaestion interrupted and lifted his head; his eyes reflected a fire Cassander had never before seen dance inside those cerulean orbs. "I thank you for the kindness you have shown me since last night; I do not know what I have done for you to deserve it." Hephaestion moved off to his wardrobe.

"You do not need to do anything for me, Hephaestion," Cassander uttered softly before he could stop himself. He took a step backwards but his eyes never left Hephaestion's back.

"Just know," Hephaestion said calmly, no trace of pain left in his voice, "that I thank you. You may go ahead of me," Hephaestion abruptly changed the tone as he shed his trousers. Cassander closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath before turning to face the wall. "I am more than capable of escorting myself to the meeting room. I shall not run away, if that is what you are thinking. And I am sorry to deny you a spectacle, if that is what you were hoping for."

"I will stay and wait," Cassander said to the wall, ignoring Hephaestion's last remark. "If you do not mind. If we're going to be late, we might as well be late together rather than one at a time."

"Ah," Hephaestion said. "You may look at me again, Cassander," Hephaestion said after a brief pause, a slight smirk in his still calm voice.

Cassander felt his cheeks grow warm but quickly shed the feeling. He turned back to Hephaestion to see that the man had dressed in a blood red chiton with a set of richly black armor atop his chest. The black of the breastplate held gold plaitings by his shoulders and his hair fell over his shoulders. Hephaestion attached a cloak the color of his chiton across his shoulders and strapped his dagger to his side.

"It is a brave move you make in a dangerous game," Cassander remarked as he followed Hephaestion out of the rooms.

"What do you speak of?" Hephaestion asked as they passed Hammarleya and Lyones by the doors.

Cassander spoke once they were out in the warm halls. "The guards… the dagger. You play a dangerous game, Hephaestion," Cassander warned.

"Perhaps," Hephaesiton mused.

Cassander hid his grin well from Hephaestion. Cassander, it was proving to be, had been utterly and sorely wrong in his opinions of Hephaestion. The man had every ounce of strength, if not more, in him that the other men did. But Hephaestion had something more, he was not afraid to show his retaliations in a way for all to see, though it would surely make Alexander mad. Yes, several of the Companions had spoken against Alexander before, but never had one had the courage, the strength, the self moral to defend their actions and themselves.

They had just reached the doors to the meeting room. The heavy wooden doors were shut closed and guards were stationed in front of them. They moved aside for Cassander and Hephaestion, and Hephaestion reached for the door handle.

Hephaestion stopped his motion to pull the doors open when he felt Cassander's hand on his forearm. Hephaestion turned to look at him.

"Do not show him weakness, Hephaestion," Cassander said in a low voice. "You are _not_ weak, Hepheastion. Do not go crawling back to him again."

Hephaestion regarded Cassander with a level, calm gaze for a moment. "That was never my intention, Cassander," he finally spoke. "I have done that too much already as it is. I will not crawl; I will stand upright and meet him."

**a/n: **well this chapter took longer to get up because I wrote it and then decided that I was going to add Hammarleya so I went back and added that. I thought it was a good ending place and after I wrote it, I realized you could interpret Hephaestion's last words in two ways. Interesting… The good news is, since this chapter was supposed to end after the meeting and after something else, I have part of the next chapter written. Possibly even the whole chapter since the part after that I think I want to be the chapter after that… anyways, hope you liked! Review! - Steph


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note—**

As always, I thank everyone that took the time to review! They are all appreciated and make me want to write more! The mixed responses about Cassander and a looming Cassander/Hephaestion relationship had me laughing. As I told a few of you, I haven't decided on exactly where the nature of Hephaestion and Cassander's relationship is going to go. Whatever it is should be clear by the end of the NEXT chapter. And I'm still debating over a subtle romance or something more… between Hephaestion/Cassander and Hephaestion/Alexander over time. I've never wrote a story about a relationship between two men before and I'm _really_ trying not to mess it up so I might stick with the subtle for this story and my next Alexander story might have a little more… ya-know…

ANYWAYS, for the names of the Companions, I'm going to stay true to the category, which is Alexander the MOVIE and use the ones as seen in the movie. I know the ones I'm leaving out but I DID say "twelve men" in the first chapter so I'm going to stay true to that.

And, yeah. As always, reviews are appreciated, hope you enjoy!

-Steph

Hikari Schezar— there's a special little reference in this chapter just for you… or, er, _Arleya_… ::grins:: I'm sure you'll understand it… seeing as it has to do with weapon wielding…

**Disclaimer: **if I owned Hephaestion and Cassander I SO would not be writing this write now… oh yeah, and I've heard that they can't really _be_ owned cuz of the fact that they were real men some twenty-three hundred years ago.

**UNTIL THE END**

**Chapter 4**

Alexander surveyed the meeting room and the companions gathered silently around the table. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. There was Ptolemy, Nearchus, Cleitus, Philotas, Craterus, Perdiccas, Parmenion, Antigonus, Polyperchon and Leonnatus. Ten of his Companions had proved able to make it to his meeting while two were late. Alexander couldn't say that he enjoyed lateness on a good day, and today was not a good day.

The Companions knew of Alexander's mood, and what had caused it, and wisely kept silent. Cassander and Hephaestion would be in enough trouble when they arrived as it was; there was no use in adding themselves to the situation.

"Where is Cassander?" Alexander asked eventually in a steely, malice filled voice. His dark eyes shifted from one Companion to the next, daring each of them to speak. None of them did though.

It was finally Ptolemy that braved Alexander's wrath. "I saw him a quarter of an hour ago going to fetch Hephaestion." Ptolemy uttered Hephaestion name softer than the rest of the words he'd spoken but it was still the one that caught Alexander's attention. Ptolemy shifted his eyes away from Alexander's when Alexander's snapped to him, but he made no other move to show his discomfort.

"Then they are both late," Alexander said, "and shall be dealt with accordingly."

Polyperchon's hands rested on his chest and he shook his aging head. Ptolemy and Perdiccas shared a glance but no one dared speak.

"Alexander," Parmenion, rising to his rank and age, spoke, "you cannot be…" Parmenion let his voice trail off as Alexander turned his head to the older general; his eyes were like black slits that just made Parmenion stop.

"I thought last night, Parmenion," Alexander continued after waiting a moment to make sure no one else was thinking of speaking, "about the issue of the rebels you brought up last night. Perhaps I acted too rashly in dismissing the idea so quickly. However, today I would like to—"

Alexander stopped speaking as the doors to the meeting room opened and closed quickly. Alexander did not look, but Hephaestion and Cassander entering the room together grabbed and held everyone else's attention. Cassander took his seat on Alexander's right and Hephaestion took the empty seat besides Cassander. Nearchus had arrived early and claimed Hephaestion usual spot on Alexander's left for himself.

"Pardon, Alexander," Cassander said after clearing his throat when the room remained silent even after he and Hephaestion were seated around the table. "I was—"

"It would appear," Hephaestion broke in, his voice calm and level but full power, "that I am not easily roused in the mornings." Hephaestion cracked a small smile but the movement involved only the corners of his lips, his cerulean eyes remained emotionless. Hephaestion glanced around at all the other men at the table but never at Alexander. He saw Cassander narrow his eyes and nodded his head before looking back at Alexander. Though faced with the dark eyes that made other men quake, Hephaestion remained calm and steady… at least on the outside. Inside, he felt like he was living a dream that was scarcely believable. In what world had he ever imagined, had he ever done anything against Alexander's wishes? There was the constant feeling that he should drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness at his kings feet… but then he remembered Cassander's words and the stinging pain still in his hand and he abolished all thoughts of the like immediately.

Alexander, on the other hand, allowed a shocked expression to briefly filter over his face. He, better than anyone perhaps, knew that it was entirely impossible to startle or to sneak up on Hephaestion even whilst he slept. Alexander himself had joked about Hephaestion's startling tendency to be aware of every movement around him by saying that Hephaestion need not sleep with a dagger under his pillow because he slept with one eye open!

Though mixed emotions of grief, sorrow, rage and wrath swirled within his breast, Alexander managed to form a coherent thought. Perhaps, perhaps if he made a public gesture to show his want to be forgiven by Hephaestion, Hephaestion's gallant heart would soften and the alien fire in his eyes burn out. It was with such thoughts that his next request came, though he knew that, as king, he should not have had to say it. But as a friend and a lover he did. "Hephaestion, I—"

"Alexander," Hephaestion stopped Alexander and Alexander look bewildered. "We all have duties that need to be completed today so let us not waste the men's time with our own personal matters." Hephaestion spoke with such blatancy that even Cassander was taken a back for a moment.

"Very well, Hephaestion," Alexander said, the rage conquering his heart for the moment. "Stay after this meeting the, and I shall speak with you then."

Hephaestion stared at Alexander a moment before he dipped his head, his hair falling across and obscuring his face. "As you wish," he said softly. The words, along with the gesture, haunted Alexander in their almost intentional way of mocking him.

"As I was saying," Alexander abruptly started. "I have reconsidered your news, Parmenion. It would be the wisest thing to stop this rebel group, you are all correct. But the situation must be dealt with carefully. Once the perpetrators are found, they must be dealt away with swiftly and cleanly, leaving no evidence of what happened to them and what they were planning. But to persecute and execute an innocent man would have devastating consequences on the alliances we have fought to lead with these faraway nations in Asia.

"Parmenion, have you a clear idea of where the worst of these rebellions are staging?"

Parmenion cleared his throat before speaking. "Yes, Alexander. The guards that reported these happenings to me were out with a small hunting party in the nearby hills."

"Are their numbers great?"

"Perhaps about fifty. Not many men, I'd assume, were brave enough to join the cause even if they did share the thoughts and opinions of these rebels," Parmenion responded.

Alexander nodded vaguely. "Very well then. Go, Parmenion, and you Cleitus, Philotas and…" Alexander looked meaningfully at Cassander for a brief second before his eyes turned to Craterus. "And Craterus," Alexander decided firmly. Cassander's hands clenched into fists and he gritted his teeth. This was the job he always did! Alexander knew it. Why should he be punished for something he hadn't done?

"Go," Alexander continued, not seeming to notice an enraged Cassander on his right. "And I grant you the pick of the army to take along with you. Do away with the rebels quickly and quietly without much fuss. Perhaps those bordering on rebellion will be dissuaded after the risen rebels are silenced. The rest of you may attend to your duties as well," Alexander said. He leaned back in his chair and rested his feet atop the table, a sure sign that business was over for the morning.

Hephaestion stayed in his seat as the rest of the Companions left the room. Cassander glanced at him briefly before glaring at the back of Alexander's golden head as he left the room.

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Cassander was the last to exit the rooms and took the liberty of closing the doors none to gently behind him. The racket that echoed off the stone walls satisfied him in a way.

"Cassander!" the voice of Nearchus called out and Cassander stopped and turned around in a flourish to face a grinning Nearchus and the rest of the Companions, not including Cleitus, Philotas, Parmenion and Craterus, still gathered outside the doors. "What is it that you have done to anger Alexander enough for him to give your position to that great oaf Craterus?" Nearchus laughed. Polyperchon made his exit, feeling that no good would come from these younger men. The rest of the men didn't join in with Nearchus's laughter as he had hoped they would. Nearchus was at a distinct disadvantage now in the hall, Cleitus, Philotas and Craterus, the three men he knew that hated Hephaestion and weren't afraid to admit it, were not there to back him up.

"I am sure I have not done a thing, Nearchus," Cassander said in the calmest voice he could muster, though his hand strayed to and rested on the dagger strapped to his side as a warning to Nearchus.

"By the gods! You think that by getting close to Hephaestion you get close to Alexander! I've figured you out, Cassander, I've figured you out. That must be why you were with Hephaestion last night and then late this morning! My, has the king's whore found a new bedmate so quickly?"

Cassander was unable to retain his calm and lunged at Nearchus. Ptolemy and Perdiccas were quickly there to stop him before he reached Nearchus though. Nearchus chuckled again as Cassander fought briefly against Ptolemy and Perdiccas in vain. The guards stationed outside the meeting room doors glanced at each other, wondering if they should interfere.

"I see I have struck a sore spot, Cassander," Nearchus went on. "My, were you not good enough for even Hephaestion?"

Cassander growled. "You know not of what you speak, Nearchus. Perhaps you've left your wits in Philotas's chambers."

"My night is of no concern," Nearchus waved a hand. "Your motives are known, Cassander. Antipater, your father, always wanted it to be you that held the place Hephaestion holds, or has once held, in Alexander's heart. You have failed you father, Cassander, is that not true? And now you have gone and distanced yourself more from Alexander."

"Nearchus," Cassander said in a low, menacing voice. He wrenched his arms against the slackening grips of Ptolemy and Perdiccas only to find them tightened once more. "You should thank the gods that Ptolemy and Perdiccas are here now, for if I could get my dagger I would like to show you just how skillful I am with it. And I will, Nearchus." Cassander turned his attention back to Ptolemy and Perdiccas, fixing them each with a cold glare. "Now let me go. I won't touch him… now," Cassander sneered the last word.

Ptolemy and Perdiccas let Cassander free of their hold on him but remained by his side. Cassander stepped forward towards Nearchus and Ptolemy and Perdiccas were not far behind.

"I thought I made it clear to you last night, Nearchus," Cassander said. "I only saw to Hephaestion last night because I knew no other would. This army—this empire!—needs Hephaestion. Hephaestion does not deserve what you speak of him, for he _is_ a good man… a better man, I am coming to think, then you yourself are, Nearchus."

Nearchus's next words were spoken in loathe. "A better man then me?" He looked around to Antigonus and Leonnatus, the remaining two men that remained by his side. "His charming girl Hammarleya is a better man then Hephaestion! I suspect that she could wield a weapon with more ferocity then Hephaestion! He is a weak man, from all you make of him, Cassander. And you are no better for allying yourself beside him!"

"You bastard," Cassander roared and Ptolemy and Perdiccas were quick to restrain him once more. This time Cassander put up more of a fight and if he had meant to get away he would have. The truth was, while Cassander would have loved nothing more than to kill Nearchus right there at that very moment, he had plans for the day and killing Nearchus might dampen them somewhat. Nearchus would feel his blade soon enough though, that Cassander vowed.

"You are no better yourself," Cassander said as he managed to shake off Ptolemy and Perdiccas. "It has not gone unnoticed that the moment the distancing between Hephaestion and Alexander was felt that you attached yourself to Alexander's side. I would have to say that it is you that hope to take Hephaestion's place in Alexander's heart," Cassander finished with a sharp snarl in his voice. "For I assure you that I have no such wishes."

Ptolemy stepped forwards quickly before Nearchus could make his response. "Men," he said in his wise voice, "you quarrel over a trivial matter. Let us all go about the business we have arranged for this day. If you wish to carry on your disagreements, do so away from Alexander's hearing," he advised.

"Yes," Cassander laughed, his hand gripping his dagger even though the weapon never left his side. "You all stand around the doors like a bunch of elderly women, hoping to hear a bit of conversation to add to your gossip."

"And yet you don't leave yourself, Cassander," Nearchus remarked.

"You could not be the son of a whore," Cassander hissed scathingly at Nearchus. "A whore would have more respect than the pig that birthed you." Ptolemy and Perdiccas edged closer once more and Cassander glared once more at them and then at Nearchus and the others before he walked off down the halls in the direction he knew no other would come. He turned a corner and was out of sight from the other men.

The rest of the men left then, going in their separate directions. Nearchus was the last to leave but he left behind the others.

When he was sure that they were gone, Cassander stepped from behind the pillar he had stood behind and walked back down the hall. The guards saw him return but said nothing, as it was not their place to interfere with the general unless he caused trouble. Cassander stationed himself in a dark corner opposite the doors and leaned back against the cool wall and folded his arms across his chest.

He wouldn't have long to wait, he knew. The voices coming from behind the doors were faint and muffled but clearly raised. Yes, he thought as there was an unmistakable crash from inside the rooms, it would not be long.

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Once the doors were closed firmly, a silence remained between the two men that remained in the rooms.

Alexander stared at the far wall and unconsciously rubbed his hands on his Persian robes. He knew the blood was gone, but he didn't think he'd ever forget the feel of Hephaestion's blood on his hands. It was unlike any others blood he had ever felt. The hot, sticky liquid had made his own blood run alarmingly cold and his hand to go numb.

Hephaestion himself tapped the first finger of his right hand gently on the table top. Though he fought with himself to maintain his indifferent exterior, the battle still raged inside of his chest. Philotas, Cleitus, Parmenion, Craterus… yes, _they_ would all speak against Alexander and advise him differently but… now it was him, Hephaestion, and there was something very surreal about the feeling that thought gave him.

"I am sorry, Hephaestion," Alexander said softly after sometime.

Hephaestion was silent for a moment and he pressed his stinging palm harder onto his thigh. "Yes," he finally said, his voice as steady and strong as he could manage it. "Yes. You are sorry, as always. Shall I say I forgive you and then we forget it ever happened and go back to the way things were?"

"Phae, please," Alexander said, staring at Hephaestion's tense profile. "I had no right. Forgive me, please. I was—"

"Drunk," Hephaestion finished for the king. "I know. It is always the same, Alexander. You do something in a rage induced by your drinking and I forgive you for it. It is how it has always been and I think it will be the way it always is." Alexander was silent for a moment. "Am I wrong?" Hephaestion braved the words.

"Yes you are wrong, Hephaestion!" Alexander's voice rose a level in volume. Hephaestion's head turned to look at the wall of the far side of the room and Alexander could now only see the back of his head. He took a deep breath and forced his voice to soften once more. "Do you really have so little faith, so little trust, left in me that you cannot believe when I am sincere in an apology I make to you?"

"I know _you_, Alexander."

"Phae—"

"And I know," Hephaestion continued, "what my place is."

"What is your place, Hephaestion?" Alexander asked.

Hephaestion leaned back in his chair. "My place," he began slowly, forming the words carefully but delibertly. "My place is with you," he said honestly. "I am the most loyal man you have with you, Alexander," now Hephaestion looked to Alexander and his cerulean eyes raged. "Someday, and perhaps someday in the presently approaching future, I will be the most loyal. My loyalty to you as my king and as my leader will never waver, Alexander."

The words stung Alexander. "Hephaestion."

"But," Hephaestion said, "besides my place as a general, I have always been your friend, your confidant, your advisor. And you may call it what you like but the other men like to think of me as your whore," he finished softly.

"No, Hephaestion. That is not you. The other men are wrong, do not listen to them! You could never be a whore, even if it was the life you'd been born into. You are too noble for that, too special."

"You're right," Hephaestion agreed with an edge of sarcasm in his voice. "That is Bagoas's job so I suppose I am not—"

"By the gods, Hephaestion!" Alexander burst. "I have told you time and time again that Bagoas means _nothing_ to me!"

"If he meant nothing," Hephaestion's eyes met with Alexander's, "then why do you call him to your bed every night? Yes, Alexander," Hephaestion said to the look that passed over Alexander's face, "I know these things. I am not blind and even if I was I am not deaf. Everyone knows. It is understandable, I suppose. Bagoas is a pretty Persian… _boy_. He's young and he's trained in the arts of how to pleasure another man. He must know things that I could never hope to even dream of. There really is no comparison."

"Yes! There _is_ no comparison!" Alexander cried. "You outshine Bagoas in every way… in _every way_! Bagoas is there for me whenever I need him but he means nothing to me compared to what you do. You are perfect the way you are, Hephaestion. You could only be a god in the body of a mortal! You _are_ Patroclus."

"And you Achilles," Hephaestion said. "But I am no god."

"The myths do not go this way, Hephaestion," Alexander said as he ran a hand through his hair. "This does not happen to Patroclus and Achilles, so why has it happened to us?"

"Are you certain, Aelxander? Certain that this does not happen to Achilles and Patroclus? What would you make of Briseis then? Did she not come between Achilles and Patroclus?" Hephaestion threw the questions to Alexander.

"Do you compare Bagoas to Briseis?" Hephaestion shrugged and waited for Alexander to continue. "The two are completely and _utt_erly different!"

"Explain to me then, Alexander," Hephaestion said. "For I do not see such a difference."

"Briseis was merely a girl, a captive of war. She served as a distraction to Achilles and Bagoas is—"

"A mere distraction for you. Yes, Alexander, I know this. And Bagoas is merely a _eunuch_, a captive of war, if you please."

"You know," Alexander said as he felt his insides hardening, "one would think that you were jealous of Bagoas!"

Hephaestion's eyes flashed violently and his right hand curled into a tight fist, the nails on his fingers digging into his palm. "To be jealous of _him_ would be to degrade myself. Think what you wish, Alexander, but I will never be jealous of that little Persian whore."

Alexander laughed bitterly. "You stress over things too much, Hephaestion. Achilles never left Patroclus, did he? Or doubt him so."

"I don't give a damn about Achilles and Patroclus anymore, Alexander!" Hephaestion's own voice rose now. Alexander's eyes opened a bit wider in his shock. "You live too much in the myths, Alexander. They are your answer for everything but they are not real."

"You _are_ Patroclus, Hephaestion!" Alexander persisted through his anger.

"Patroclus be damned!" Hephaestion threw back his head. "If this is truly the life he led, he was lucky to have met his death young."

Alexander sobered as he thought over Hephaestion's last words. Did Hephaestion wish for his death to come? Alexander had not the heart to ask it though. But perhaps it was courage and strength for the answer that would come that he lacked. "No matter what," Alexander said. "Despite whatever happened between Achilles and Patroclus as a result of Briseis, I will not hurt you Hephaestion. My apology for last night stands strong, I was wrong to come at you with a dagger. I have hurt you once, Hephaestion, and once is enough. Believe me, please. I will never hurt you agai—"

"Once?" Hephaestion echoed, slightly incredulous. "Once? You have not hurt me just _once_, Alexander. All these years, all the times you've called on another or dismissed my thoughts and feelings in want of only yours… each time has caused me pain, Alexander, but I would never tell you so because I cared only for your happiness. I was willing to be used if it meant that I could have you, and love you, for _that_ much longer. But as we've grown and as the years have passed, and now it as we are in strange lands thousands upon thousands of miles away from our home in Macedonia that I finally have a physical scar to show the pain you cause me." Hephaestion held up his left hand and Alexander stared at it. It was still bound in a piece of cloth though several sports of red showed through on the palm.

"You don't see it, Alexander," Hephaestion continued sadly. "You don't see it when you hurt others, you see only yourself and _your_ feelings. I always thought that you would see how you hurt me and it scared me so perhaps I did hide it some more. But you would have, should have, seen it, Alexander, if you really did love me."

"I _do_ love you, Hephaestion. I will forever. Never doubt that!"

"I don't doubt it, Alexander. But sometimes I question it."

"Question it? Question it?" Alexander's voice and fury rose together. "How dare you? My love for you has only grown since we were boys. After everything we've been through does it really come back to something as insignificant as a Persian eunuch, Hephaestion?"

Hephaestion's responding silence only fueled Alexander's growing rage. How could Hephaestion question, doubt even, the love that Alexander held for him? Never had it wavered. Not once.

"Do you love me, Hephaestion?"

Hephaestion was silent once more and Alexander grew irritated. "Yes," Hephaestion finally answered simply. "I don't think I'll ever not be able to love you, despite what happens between us in the future. You are still my king and my commander and I respect you for it."

"Why do you think of me as such things?" Alexander hissed. "As a king and a commander, Hephaestion?"

"Because they are what you are, Alexander."

"No!" Alexander howled like a wounded animal. He stood up so quickly and with such force that the chair he'd been sitting upon fell to the ground with a heavy thud. "No!" he repeated once more as he paced a short distance of the room as he'd seen agitated animals pace their cages. "I forbid you to say such thing!" He whirled upon Hephaestion who slowly stood from his seat and stared across the table at Alexander.

"You cannot ask such a thing of me, Alexander," he said calmly.

Alexander let out an enraged yell and grabbed a goblet from the table and hurled it towards Hephaestion. Hephaestion ducked to the side and the goblet hit the wall and fell to the floor with a clang.

Hephaestion's heart beat rapidly. Perhaps it was with fear. He did not know.

"I will continue to be loyal to you until the gods claim me," Hephaestion continued, trying to calm Alexander. "But," he continued and he knew that this next thought would only anger the livid king even more but he needed to say it. "But I do not think that we should see each other for awhile. We both need time to…" Hephaestion paused to duck another flying goblet. "… time to figure whatever's going on between us out."

"And just when, do you suggest, will I see you?" Alexander shouted to the ceiling as he stalked to the side of the room that contained pottery and small statues of importance to Bactrian culture.

"At Companion meetings and the feasts," Hephaestion said, edging slowly along the wall.

"NO!" Alexander said once again and this time the word was accompanied by a flying statue made of stone. Hephaestion couldn't see what it was a statue of, but it now lay on the floor several feet from his feet, smashed into small pieces.

"It's for the best, Alexander," Hephaestion pleaded. But his quest for some amount of forgiveness was wiped away completely with the vase that smashed against the wall quite near his head. Hephaestion ducked out of the way and felt his own anger bubbling in his chest. "Alexander be reasonable! It is for the rest and you _know_ it!"

"I know nothing of the sort, Hephaestion," Alexander yelled back, his rage completely engulfing his senses. "I do know, however, that I want the guards removed from your doors immediately!"

"You are the one who wanted me to _have_ guards!"

"But not for the reasons they are now employed under. I know, Hephaestion! They are there to keep _me_ out! Such an act against the king will not be tolerated by anyone!"

Another vase smashed against the wall, this one closer to Hephaestion and as he moved away his foot crunched over the smashed figurine.

"Alexander! Have you lost your mind?" Hephaestion yelled as another statue flew.

"Get out, Hephaestion!" Alexander roared, sweeping his arm across the side table and sending the rest of its contents smashing to the floor. "Get out! _Go_!" he pointed at the doors with a shaking hand. "I don't want to see you again! Leave!"

Hephaestion started towards the doors but apparently Alexander had not finished yet. As he opened the doors, Alexander yelled out once more.

"You are nothing without me, Hephaestion(1)! _No_thing!"

The words stung Hephaestion more then Alexander would ever know but he did not pause his departure by one step.

Alexander retrieved the largest piece of pottery from the floor that he could find and hurled it at the closing door. It hit off the edge and shattered to the floor.

Hephaestion quickened his steps and closed the door with more force then he would have.

Alexander stared after the closed door long after Hephaestion had closed it on him. The rage that had fogged his eyes and his heart slowly dissipated and with the clearing brought unimaginable pain and sorrow. He fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands, ignoring the piece of clay that cut into his knee. No tears came, but he sobbed dry sobs that racked through his body.

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Cassander grew increasingly alarmed as a rapid succession of crashes came from inside the room. Some sounded like bronze, another like stone and several more like pottery. Alexander's yelling grew, he knew, though he could not make out the specific words that he spoke. Hephaestion's voice joined the mix as well.

Cassander had not seen this coming. Not at all. This wasn't how it was supposed to be and he knew it too, despite his last words to Hephaestion before they entered the meeting. Hephaestion always forgave Alexander and things went back to normal.

Not this time though, that much he could gather. Because unless Alexander and Hephaestion behaved like a pair of angered male lions when they were together in the physical way, this was clearly a falling out between them.

The doors finally opened and Cassander watched from his shadowed corner as Hephaestion exited. There was a small crash on the door that Hephaestion held and the man flinched to the side visibly before hurrying from the room and slamming the door in his wake.

Cassander, and the guards too for that matter, as well as the pair of servants walking to the washrooms with baskets full of laundry, did not miss Alexander's farewell to Hephaestion. 

"You are nothing without me, Hephaestion! Nothing!"

Hephaestion face looked like stone, Cassander noted from his hiding place. His shoulders were tense and his jaw set, his cerulean eyes flashing like the lightening upon a turbulent sea during a storm. Cassander watched as Hephaestion instructed the guards to fetch Bagoas for Alexander. Hephaestion sneered the eunuch's name like it was a vile disease. Hephaestion's voice, in delivering his orders, was hard and emotionless and stunned even Cassander for a moment.

Hephaestion turned and started down the corridor in the direction of his rooms, his stride was long and swift and his cloak billowed against his ankles.

Cassander stepped out next to Hephaestion when Hephaestion passed his hiding place but, through his anger, Hephaestion did not notice him.

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The only thought in Hephaestion's mind as he stormed down the halls was that he had to get out of this cursed place.

Never before had Hephaestion been so blinded and consumed by anger or any emotion at all, that he failed to see the man that fell into step besides him. Though, he had the sense not to look surprised when Cassander spoke. Even through the anger, Hephaestion had been expecting Cassander.

"Hephaestion." Cassander only said his name but it was enough for Hephaestion to know that Cassander had been waiting outside the meeting room doors. Perhaps he had not heard the words that had passed between him and Alexander but he had surely heard the racket.

"Alexander decided to use me as target practice," Hephaestion said in a voice that was entirely too calm for the way Cassander knew he was feeling. He could tell just by the way that Hephaestion carried himself that he was anything but calm. But the voice of pure, deadly calm unnerved Cassander now more then any other time he'd heard Hephaestion use it since the previous night.

"He didn't—"

"Hit me?" Hephaestion broke in. "No, he didn't. His aim is accurate to the extent of deadly upon any occasion," Hephaestion reasoned, "but in anger, apparently, it is not spot-on. I suppose I should be thankful for that as otherwise I would surely look a state."

Cassander didn't say anything. In all honesty, he did not know what to say to Hephaestion at the moment. He sensed that Hephaestion didn't want anything said to him though. At the very least, he did not want condolences.

They had reached the entrance to Hephaestion's rooms by that time and both men stopped outside the doors. The guards straightened up upon seeing Hephaestion but Hephaestion didn't seem notice them.

"Go fetch your helmet, Cassander," Hephaestion said.

"For what reason?" Cassander narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Last night he may have fetched Philip for Hephaestion, but he would never be ordered about by him.

"We're going for a ride," Hephaestion said vaguely.

"And what causes you to presume that I would have any interest in going with you?"

Hephaestion turned his head and looked at Cassander, their eyes meeting. Cassander had to looked at the greenery over Hephaestion's shoulder, unable to keep his gaze locked with one so filled with emotion and pain and anger.

"You are with me now," Hephaestion finally said. "You waited for me to be finished with Alexander. That must mean that you wanted something. But I want to go for a ride. If you want to come, meet me in the stables in a quarter of an hour. If I am wrong in my presumptions, then don't."

Hephaestion disappeared into his rooms without another word or glance to Cassander and Cassnader was left standing in the hall. Finally, he headed in the direction of his rooms. Perhaps Hephaestion was right; maybe he did want something from him. But he didn't know what. After all, what could a man like Hephaestion have to offer to a man like Cassander?

**a/n: **phew, it's done! Hope you enjoyed! I know I'm making Alexander out to be very unstable with his emotions. But I can see him being blinded by anger at the simplest things, like not getting his way. He is, essentially, just like a little kid throwing a tantrum, if you want to think about it like that. I see his emotions as something he would have gotten from Philip and even Olympias as well. Anyways, I'm on spring break so hopefully I'll update soon! REVIEW!!! –Steph

(1)-- That line "you are nothing without me" is an actual line that Alexander spoke to Hephaestion. It's used in the movie as well when Hephaestion is dying ::sob:: Obviously, it's out of context here and possibly in the movie too. Where it was really spoken was in India. Craterus and Hephaestion had frequently had "battles of the will" I suppose you could call it (they were the biggest rivals for power and rank). But once in India their fight came to actually blows and swords and Alexander was called and rushed to come and break up the fight. He spoke the words "you are nothing without me" to Hephaestion then and he said that even though he loved them both he would kill them if they ever fought again, or the one who started it at the very least. The words can be interpreted, I feel, in two ways: 1) literally. Alexander saying that Hephaestion really _wasn't_ anything without him (which I don't really think is true because Hephaestion was brilliant and excelled in logistics and strategy). Or 2) conceptually. Like Hephaestion's high ranking in the military and the empire was because of his friendship and closeness with Alexander because, as I understand it, Hephaestion was outranked by all of the Companions in actual warfare, though he excelled over them with strategy and the logistics. Just felt like including this for all those people like me who soak up everything about Alexander the Great they can find!


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note—**

Yay! Thanks for all the reviews!! I was glad to see that Alexander's reaction went over well with you guys (for the most part). Alexander is exactly like a spoiled little kid who always gets his way. But not this time. And I do understand any of the complaints you may have about Alexander's reactions and emotions and everything. I think I said it in the last chapter, but Alexander _is_ unstable with his emotions. But I am _only_ trying to make Alexander unstable in his _emotions_. It basically comes back to the little kid thing. But I'm not trying to belittle Alexander or to make him less of a man (and inspiration) then he was and **_is_**. Alexander will, forever in my mind, be the world's greatest military leader and conqueror, and just a great man that everyone should respect and admire. I smile whenever I think of the dream he had. Alexander is living proof that billions, if not the whole world, can follow one man and his dream. Alexander showed that authority really did come down to your success and your glory but through his want for glory and to achieve the legendary status of his ancestor Achilles, Alexander showed more then the heroic ideals first shown by Homer. I know that I have stretched the limit of the Alexander that we can accept, and even I sometimes feel bad for how I've portrayed the man that deserves nothing but respect. But I think it all comes back to what I said when I first started this story: it focuses mainly on Hephaestion. We all have our own views of Alexander and Hephaestion, maybe Hephaestion varies more because there is substantially less known about him, which may also be why we are more open to different takes on Hephaestion rather then Alexander. Magnifying Alexander's emotions and his reactions to border on the extreme is all to make a point. This story is exploring yet another view of Hephaestion, mine. It doesn't have to be how anyone else sees him but its how I do. In the end, Hephaestion's problems with Alexander and his morphing relationship with Cassander serve only as props to make a point. Now, I have never made myself out to be a great author. I can recognize that I have some talent at writing but I'm not as skilled as many other people, even ones that write on this site. I can think of ways to show a strong Hephaestion but when I think about it, I can't make them show Hephaestion like I want him to be shown. In my mind, I have a vividly clear image of Hephaestion, sometimes it's hard to come back to reality and realize that he's not alive. But I do know, or I can imagine, what Hephaestion shared with Alexander. And, in turn, I can imagine how things Alexander did affected Hephaestion. The way that, at the moment, I can best portray the Hephaestion that I want to show, is by playing with Alexander a bit. If you don't like Alexander (meaning the one I've created) then I can understand it fully and I appreciate it. I've never been good at capturing and conveying emotions and I rely more on dialogue, action and confrontations to set the mood and shed light on the story. Even if you absolutely loath the Alexander I've created in these few chapters, if you like Hephaestion then I've succeeded with my goal in writing this. Thank you very much for your review, Salome, it was appreciated and gave me a chance to explain.

Also, thanks to Phai1138 for your review. I mistakenly said that in the movie Alexander said "you are nothing with me" when, if fact, he said "I am nothing without you". It's a cool twist around of the actually words though. My mistake though, I do know the real words since I can basically quote the movie. Once I said the lines to the scene before Gaugamela when Alexander has all his generals together with the actors to cheer up my little brother and he looked at me and said "wow, Steph, you're such a loser" and walked away. Thank you for reminding me though!!

And: this chapter is for Hikari Schezar for showing me the GREATEST, MOST ADORABLE, SQUEE WORTHY picture of Cassander EVER ::looks at picture:: Hehehehehehe.

And I changed the title because I seem to be going more into how the 'tales of Troy' influence their lives and what happens when they're not there. It makes sense to me but I'm bad at explaining soo… Sorry for any confusion!

ANYWAYS, this is my a/n that's long enough to be the chapter… almost so… On with the chapter!! Hope you enjoy!!

And it's super easy to make me love you (and to possibly get teasers for the coming chapter) if you review, so REVIEW!!

-Steph

**Disclaimer: **oh, I wish.

**TALES OF TROY**

**Chapter 5**

Hammarleya quickly knelt over a stain that she was imagining on the rug when she saw Lyones pick up the washing. She feigned work so that, for this one day, Lyones would take the washing instead of her. Lyones left with the basket without a word and once the doors had closed, Hammarleya sat back on the floor and crossed her legs underneath her.

She stared across the rooms without really seeing what was before her.

Hephaestion had left that morning with Cassander. She had watched him leave. She knew that Hephaestion had been aware of her presence at the time, since she, too, knew that Hephaestion was aware of most everything that went on around him, but he had not acknowledged her. It was fair, she reasoned, since no man, especially one of Hephaestion's standing, was required to acknowledge his servants. But Hephaestion always did. She knew that he would not tell her what he thought or what he felt, but Hammarleya knew that just being there would be enough for her, and for Hephaestion, too.

And while it was not her place to choose what work she would and would not do, sending Lyones away was alright. She doubted she'd fooled Lyones with her stain-on-the-floor routine, but Lyones understood. It was why he had said nothing as he'd left.

Hammarleya stood up after a moment more and drifted around the edges of the large rooms. She lingered momentarily by the windows that opened to a balcony and stared across the landscape. In the distance, were mountains. But everything was brown and dull in her eyes. So different from Pella, she mused as she traced her fingers along the screens, so different from home…

The desk in the corner of the room was covered with scrolls, pens and ink. Hammarleya knew that Hephaestion reviewed letters and the supply lines for Alexander. Any other would have thought the desk cluttered but Hephaestion was partial to the particulars of his work and would not let Lyones or herself touch it to clear some of the mess away. An organized mess, Hephaestion had once joked in a carefree nature when she'd attempted to organize the contents a bit. Hammarleya smiled now as she looked upon the desk. Yes, she thought and put a hand over her mouth when her smile grew too big from remembering the look on Hephaestion's face, an organized mess, indeed.

Her fingertips flitted over the rough edges of parchment. She could read some Greek but never could she make out the complicated strings of shapes that Hephaestion read with ease. Some of the scrolls, she knew, were in other languages. Sometimes Hammarleya couldn't help but wonder about the men she'd heard laugh at Hephaestion. She could see nothing short of admirable in the man, as she knew a good portion of the army, her brother included, saw as well.

Lost in her thoughts, Hammarleya let her fingers continue their path across the edge of the desk. Finally, though, she broke from her thoughts when her fingers bumped something hard that fell to the floor with a thud. She bent down quickly in alarm, hoping that she had not broken anything.

Immediately upon seeing the handle encrusted with fine jewels and gems that caught on the suns rays, she knew what it was. It was Hephaestion's ornamental dagger, the one he only wore on parade. Hammarleya had admired it greatly when it was strapped to Hephaestion side, though. The way the sun had glistened off of the exotically colored jewels had left her spellbound. But Hephaestion, while realizing the wealth of such a dagger, did not find the jewel laden handle and the patterns etched onto the blade practical. Hammarleya thought it lovely though and slid the dagger from its leather sheath to see it. There were swirls and other intricate designs upon both sides of the blade. On the one side, however, amidst the designs lay several Greek characters that even she could make out. She believed it said Patroclus. The name made her smile more, because, of course, she knew where such a name came from. Everyone, she thought, knew. And in knowing the word, she knew where the dagger came from.

She'd always thought it to be a lovely thing, what Hephaestion clearly shared with Alexander. The dagger she held now was clue enough for their feelings. Even if it was just one word, several characters, the name was what made Hephaestion keep the dagger.

Hammarleya ran her finger carefully along the sharp edge of the blade that had never been used, her finger barely touched it and yet she could still feel the lethal power it held.

Hammarleya knew, of course, Hephaestion's feelings for Alexander and Alexander's for Hephaestion in return. Perhaps she had heard them speaking in Hephaestion's rooms several times, though she knew it was not her place. She admired Alexander as a king but at times she could not help but curse his blindness. Alexander, she knew, saw himself first, no matter how much he claimed to love those around him. She had seen the pain in Hephaestion's eyes several times but he masked it well. She knew that such thoughts could have her executed, but was it really so wrong for her to sometimes wish that Alexander could feel the blade she now held in her hands brought down on his body? Not to kill him of course, or to harm him at all really, Hammarleya reasoned quickly to herself, but to show him some sense in his mind that was so diluted by his thirst for glory.

The sound of the doors opening and closing startled Hammarleya so much that she dropped the dagger again. She thanked the gods for the thick carpets that muffled the sound of impact and quickly picked it up, put the blade back in its sheath and placed it back on the top of the desk. Hammarleya moved away from the desk on soft feet.

She watched from her darkened corner as Hephaestion moved through the rooms. His cloak moved behind him in the way Hammarleya had always admired. How gallant and proud and noble such a simple movement could make a man look.

Knowing that Hephaestion would already be aware of her presence in his rooms, Hammarleya stepped forwards and out of the shadows to make her presence known, since she knew Hephaestion would never demand it of her. She clasped her hands in front of her stomach and looked down at the ground as she said in a soft voice, "My lord, may I be of any service?"

Hammarleya heard Hephaestion turn around and felt his eyes upon her. "Ah, Arleya," he said, using the nickname he had also dubbed upon her. His voice, she noticed was tight and strained but he managed a slight smile for her. She looked up at him and allowed a smile of her own to cross over her face. "I assume that Asathon has recovered?"

Hammarleya flushed lightly and looked at the floor once more. "He is better, my lord. His fever broke during the night," she added hopefully.

Hephaestion frowned and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down on her. "Oh?" he said. "I thought I said that I did not want to see you in these rooms until he joined the army once more."

"Tyrea is with him now," Hammarleya said. "He is quite better, my lord. I would not have left him otherwise. I just wished to be here when I heard wh—" she broke off quickly and her face flushed a darker shade.

A lesser man would have berated her and her free tongue, but Hephaestion only half attempted to conceal a sigh. "Ah. I see," he said shortly before turning and seeming to look for something. "I assure you, Arleya, that I am fine. It was but an accident, I assume, so don't go listening to gossip." Hammarleya wondered why Hephaestion lied so, even if it was only to her. His eyes, she could see, spoke a very different story. "Now," he muttered softly and Hammarleya moved closer to him. "Where did Philip put that salve he spoke of?" he spoke to himself but Hammarleya answered.

"I placed it over here, my lord," she said before stepping past Hephaestion and to the table that also held a mirror and a basin of warm water. She picked up the jar and turned back to Hephaestion. She saw the way his left hand, the injured one she knew, tapped lightly and quickly against his hip and guessed it was bothering him. "Would you like me to—" she started to offer her held but Hephaestion would have none of it.

"Nonsense!" he said, reaching for the jar. "I'm quite capable of applying medicine to myself. It is only my hand, after all, and but a scratch. Still, it is not something that a pretty young girl such as yourself needs to see so early in the morning. I'm sure you saw quite enough injuries far worse than my own during your time spent with Asathon in the sick rooms."

"Yes, my lord," Hammarleya agreed. Hephaestion tried to turn his body to hide his hand from Hammarleya but she saw it in the mirror despite the general's noble efforts. She looked quickly back to the floor, however. The scar, she had seen, was long, stretching from nearly one side of his palm to the other. Around the scar, the skin was red and slightly swollen but looked clear of infection, though there was some dried blood.

Hephaestion unscrewed the lid on the jar of salve and rubbed a bit onto his palm. The creamy substance produced a reaction of heat and stinging within his hand that he was not prepared for. His shoulders tensed briefly but other then that he gave no indication of any pain he may have felt. Hephaestion placed the jar back on the table and laid the cloth that had wrapped his hand next to the basin, as it was now soiled with spots of blood. He picked up another strip of cloth and attempted to tie it around his hand. He lay it first over the wound and threaded one end of the cloth through the space between his thumb and first-finger. He pressed his hand into his stomach and gathered both ends of the cloth but fumbled as he tried to tie them together with only one able hand.

Hammarleya saw his struggle and stepped forwards. "Please, my lord," she said softly as she reached out for Hephaestion's hand, "let me help." Hephaestion allowed her help this time and Hammarleya made sure the whole wound was covered before tying the ends of the cloth together with an easy gentleness.

"Thank you, Arleya," Hephaestion said sincerely once she had finished and let his hand go.

Hephaestion faced Hammarleya once more. "I do appreciate your concern, Arleya," he said, "but I am fine. If at any time you need to go back to Asathon that is fine and you needn't worry."

"Yes, thank you, my lord," Hammarleya said with a small smile.

"Now," Hephaestion said as he moved closer to the door. "I'm going for a ride, but do try not to knock anymore daggers from desk tops, alright?" the corners of his lips lifted slightly.

"Yes," Hammarleya said with her own smile, "of course, my lord. My apologies."

Hephaestion looked at her for one more moment before he turned and left the roomed, his cloak billowing behind him once more.

Hammarleya admired Hephaestion, she truly did, with all her heart. Hephaestion was a strong man, who, in at least several ways that she knew of, was the exact opposite of Alexander. While Alexander thought of himself first and foremost, Hephaestion went out of his way to consider others feelings. He always tried to appear content and happy, while Alexander did not hesitate to share his true feelings and colors with others. But Hephaestion never tried to drag another down to the darker emotions; he did the opposite in fact, he tried to keep others above in more enjoyable moods.

Hammarleya appreciated the smiles Hephaestion had given her, and the way he had fought to mask his voice. His smiles weren't genuine and didn't reach his eyes and she could still detect the undertones of stress and of hurt and anger in his voice. But she appreciated the efforts he made on her behalf nonetheless. He had strived to keep Hammarleya happy and carefree… and he had almost succeeded.

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He felt it to be against his better judgment, but Cassander found himself standing in the warm sun outside the stables. He leaned back against the wall behind him, crossed his arms and ankles and settled for glaring at anyone that passed too close to him, or looked at him at all.

If Hephaestion had been anyone other than Hephaestion, Cassander would have long ago deemed this while affair a joke to make a fool out of him. As it was, if Hephaestion didn't show himself in the next minute, Cassander would find himself something better to do, because the gods knew there were other things for him to do this early in the day.

"I suppose I was right then," a voice caught Cassander's attention. He squinted across the square and saw Hephaestion approaching; looking every bit the king Princess Stateira had mistakenly thought him to be. If it was not for the starkly different shade of hair Alexander and Hephaestion had, Cassander wondered if it would be so easy to tell the men apart. They were two halves of one whole person already, Cassander knew. But no, Cassander thought. Hephaestion had eyes that no other could ever hope to compare too.

Cassander stood up straight when Hephaestion was in front of him but hardened his face. "So it would appear."

"Well," Hephaestion said, glancing towards the stables. "I'll just go tell my groom to saddle my horse."

"It has already been down," Cassander forced his voice into a drawl as Hephaestion started towards the stables.

Hephaestion turned around and looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Oh?" he said.

"You take entirely too long to ready yourself for a simple ride," Cassander said mockingly. "Are you quite sure you weren't delayed for other matters?"

Hephaestion's eyes hardened and he shifted closer to Cassander. "Where else would I have been, Cassander?"

Cassander shrugged. "One would only be able to wonder, I suppose," he said, easing away from the indication his earlier words had left by lightening his voice. He looked over his shoulder irritably. "Now, where are those damned horses?"

Hephaestion watched Cassander through insightful eyes that could see and knew entirely too much. "I told you already, Cassander," he said softly, not intending to leave the topic as Cassander did, "and I meant it. I'm not going to make my mistake for the second time."

"Second?" Cassander couldn't help the word that slipped from his lips and the laugh that accompanied it.

Hephaestion, to his credit, was aware of the joke and attempted a smile, though it was terse and tight and far from any genuine smile Cassander had ever seen and equally as far from any forced smile he'd seen, of which there have been plenty. "You're right," Hephaestion said before turning himself away from Cassander and looking up at the window he knew to be part of the meeting room he'd recently been in.

Cassander stared at Hephaestion's back and let out a breath. He quickly pushed a hand through the soft locks that fell upon his shoulders. "Hephaestion, I didn't—"

"My lord," a soft voice came from behind Cassander. Cassander whipped around to face the two grooms before him, each holding a horse by its reins. "Your horses, my lords," the boy said and bowed his head, his dark hair falling across his grimy, dirt streaked face.

The large, muscled and proud horse with a gleaming chestnut coat chomped on its bit. It bobbed its head several times; one catching the boy that held it reins on the shoulder and causing him to stumble slightly. The other horse was a noble bay with a white blaze down its large face, equally as fine as the chestnut. The bay was held by the boy that had spoken and snapped its teeth at the chestnut, causing the chestnut to jerk its head up in surprise.

"It took you long enough," Cassander snapped as he stepped to the bays left side. He vaulted easily onto the stallions back and settled onto the riding cloth. The boy released his grip on the bays reins as Cassander picked them up.

Hephaestion mounted the chestnut with a similar ease and grace as Cassander had, though unlike Cassander, Hephaestion offered a soft 'thank-you' to the groom that held the chestnut. The two grooms back away and Hephaestion and Cassander set off out of the stable square. Both horses accepted their bits with proudly arched necks and ears pricked back to their riders' attention as their powerful haunches moved them forwards in a swift walk.

The bay was the feistier of the pair and when Hephaestion and the chestnut came too close, it snaked its neck around and snapped at the chestnut's neck. The chestnut tossed its head in alarm. Hephaestion tightened his reins and used his legs to steer the chestnut away from the bay before his mount could respond to the bay.

"Easy now, Hector," Cassander laughed wryly to the bay, stroking his neck fondly. "It has not been so long, surely you remember the friends you travel with."

"Hector?" Hephaestion said.

Cassander glanced over at Hephaestion and laughed before looking ahead once more. "Yes," he said. "It's what I call him," he tapped the bays neck. "Do you not think a most fitting name?"

"Perhaps," Hephaestion said. "Gallant, brave Hector, slayer of Patroclus who fell victim to Achilles wrath and sword."

"Yes," Cassander agreed. "Ironic, isn't it?" he grinned.

Hephaestion thought for a moment. "I suppose that would depend on how you meant the name to come across," he reasoned wisely.

"It has a fair amount of reasoning," Cassander said simply. "And I am a fan of irony, I suppose. I quite like it, don't you?"

Hephaestion stared ahead in contemplation. Cassander looked at him and noticed his frown. He wondered if it was the name bothered Hephaestion so much, or something else. He was set to ask about it when Hephaestion said, "Yes. It is a fitting name."

Cassander looked at Hephaestion questioningly for a moment longer but the man did not glance at him. Instead of lingering on Hector, Patroclus, Achilles and the myths, Cassander moved on. "What do you call your horse then?" he asked.

"Apollo," Hephaestion answered without hesitation. Cassander narrowed his eyes. Hephaestion had spoken too quickly.

"Perhaps," Cassander said slowly. "Perhaps if the horse you rode now was of a slighter build and of a lighter coloring I would believe it had such a name as Apollo. But this horse and its fiery chestnut coat do not speak of Apollo."

"Alexander calls him Apollo," Hephaestion said.

"Ah, but I did not ask what Alexander calls him. What do _you_ call him? He is your horse, isn't he?" Cassander said, perhaps using this last question as a means to spite Hephaestion and the status he held by Alexander's side. Or _had_ held, Cassander couldn't help correcting himself.

"I call him Ares," Hephaestion said after another moment had passed.

"Ah!" Cassander said gleefully, intending to milk the name of Hephaestion's horse for all it was worth to him. "Ares fits the horse more, but does it fit its master? The god of warfare, of slaughter, of savagery and of bloodshed is not something many think of when they think your name, Hephaestion."

"I know very well what people think of my name," Hephaestion said sharply with an underlying tone of bitter defensiveness in his voice. "I suppose even these horses know, it is no little secret. Even the deaf would know," Hephaestion continued, an edge of sadness now creeping into his voice, "for they could see. And the blind would know aswell because they could hear."

"And those that are deaf _and_ blind?" Cassander asked.

Hephaestion was silent. He stared ahead, through the streets of Balkh they now rode. His jaw was clenched and he pressed his left hand into his thigh. A muscle in his face twitched briefly. Cassander turned his gaze back ahead and played with the ends of his leather reins.

"Perhaps it is you that is the deaf man and the blind man as well," he remarked softly.

Hephaestion's head snapped to the side. "How do you mean?"

"The men, the other generals, they are only jealous of you. You have a great influence in this army, in this whole empire, Hephaestion, though sometimes I feel as though you do not know it. Or, rather, you _do_ know it, you just don't accept and acknowledge it all the time," Cassander amended. "The army looks to you for leadership, perhaps after Alexander and perhaps before Alexander at the same time. The troops you command are among the most loyal this army has, they would follow _you_ to the ends of the earth. And the generals are just jealous of the power you have. It is not your place with Alexander that has started it, but it is what it comes down to in the end."

"Are you jealous as well, Cassander? Do you _envy_ me?" Hephaestion asked.

"I was," Cassander said. "I did."

"Was," Hephaestion echoed. His voice was not as disbelieving as it was curious though.

"Yes," Cassander said. "When we were boys I was jealous. When Alexander first called you his favorite, perhaps not in so many words but his intentions were clear enough for all to see, then I was jealous. When you rode by Alexander's side into Babylon I was jealous. When you received the best rooms, clothes, horses, weapons and food I was jealous. When you were pardoned for your misdoings, which have been few, I was jealous."

Hephaestion looked down at his horse's neck and flipped the end of its soft mane from the right to the left of its neck. "That seems a lot to be jealous of, Cassander."

"And I wasn't even done," Cassander laughed. "But what I have been jealous of is not the point, Hephaestion. Did you miss the key word in the tale of all my jealousies? _Was_. I _was_ jealous."

"Are you trying to insult me, Cassander?" Hephaestion asked.

"No," Cassander said, "and yes." He paused. "No, I am not insulting you, Hephaestion. At least those are not my intentions."

"Then please explain to me, Cassander, because it seems very much like an insult to me," Hephaestion said. He didn't really care if it was an insult though, and Cassander could see it too.

Cassander continued though. "There is much to be jealous of when one meets you for the first time, or looks you in the eye, or is in your presence at any time, Hephaestion," Cassander started with. "And it is those same jealous that make men not able to see the truth in you, but what they can see, and even what they can't, adds to their jealousy. I wonder, sometimes, if Alexander is not jealous of you as well… perhaps the most jealous of us all…" he murmured.

"I do not understand," Hephaestion said. "Why would Alexander have been jealous of me?"

"Because you are Heph_aestion_," the words flew from Cassander's mouth before he could stop them. But instead of taking the words back, Cassander let them hang in the air between the two men.

"Perhaps that is the conclusion of the jealousy you claim other men feel towards me," Hephaestion reasoned wisely. "But I do not see how Alexander could ever have been jealous of me. And not only Alexander, Cassander… _all_ men. What can I do that other men cannot? You are a better killer then I and Ptolemy a better commander. Is it really just a chance we had as young boys that it comes down to? What if my father had never brought me to Pella from Athens? What then?"

"I would certainly be Alexander's favorite and you would be a great philosopher in Athens, someday called upon to educate Alexander's own children," Cassander said with a laugh. Hephaestion remained expressionless though and Cassander sighed. Hephaestion could make others smile, but now, as he looked to return the gesture, he could not make Hephaestion smile. "It is simple, I suppose," Cassander began again after a moment. "Your weaknesses tower over other men's strengths." Hephaestion remained passively silent so Cassander continued. "You have only two weaknesses that I can pick out. You would rather use words to solve a conflict then you would war. That is the first. The second, however, would be Alexander. You do whatever the man says like a beaten puppy with its tail between its legs."

Hephaestion looked briefly at Cassander. "Such an analogy," he mused. "Is that really how I am?"

"You did his bidding willingly," Cassander went on, "not because he forced you, but because you thought you had to. Even if you didn't agree, you did it, because your loyalty and allegiance has always been pledged solely on Alexander himself. But now, though maybe you are still an _Athenian whelp_," Cassnader rolled his eyes, "you have proved that you are not weak to Alexander and that you can stand up for yourself."

"Who have I proved that too, Cassander?" Hephaestion asked, acutely aware of the feelings the other generals still held towards him.

"You've proved it to me," Cassander said with any and all attachment carefully left out of his voice.

Now when Hephaestion looked to Cassander, there was a dim spark of jest in his cerulean eyes. "One would think you were going soft in your old age, Cassander."

"I still hate you," Cassander assured Hephaestion, though he smiled whilst he said it. "Never forget that. Someday you'll fall by my hand… just as Patroclus did to Hector."

"I thought the horse's name was Hector, not yours," Hephaestion laughed.

Cassander kicked Hephaestion's foot with his own. "Who said I did not have an ancestor from Homer's tales as well?"

"And so Patroclus rides through the streets of Balkh with Hector by his side," Hephaestion remarked as he looked up at the clear sky. "Not the way the story goes, is it?" he looked at Cassander.

"Alexander may live his life by the myths and tales of Troy," Cassander said, "but I do not."

Hephaestion was silent for a moment before he, too, agreed. "You are right, Cassander. We don't live by the myths… you understand though," he said quickly with a look passed to Cassander. "The myths are _glorious_ things, but they should be what guide young men through the beginnings, they are what all men should grow up hearing and enjoying. But to let them govern your life when you rule millions of miles…" Hephaestion trailed off. "To allow yourself to do such is a horrible mistake, despite the honor you may gain and the mythical glory of Heracles and Achilles you may achieve."

"We speak of Alexander now," Cassander said, looking down at his horse's neck.

Hephaestion let out a short, sharp breath of air through his nose. "I tried to tell him, you know," he said.

Cassander looked at Hephaestion once more. "And what did you get thrown at you for disrespecting the myths?" he said the words in jest, but his voice still held some level of seriousness.

"Nothing," Hephaestion said, much to Cassander's surprise. "He was angry, yes," he agreed, "and perhaps it was what would fuel his anger later on." Hephaestion paused briefly and laughed almost inaudibly. "I told him I didn't want to be Patroclus anymore, Cassander," he admitted softly.

"Where would we be without Patroclus?" Cassander mused to the distant horizon. "Where?" he repeated to the sky. "Nothing would be the same, Hephaestion, without Patroclus."

"Patroclus lived in another time," Hephaestion said in annoyance. "I am no Patroclus."

"Perhaps you are right," Cassander said. Hephaestion shot him a look. "But I think that, in some essence, you are _like_ a Patroclus. Not Patroclus himself," he amended quickly at Hephaestion's narrowed eyes, "but more in a… a role, I assume, and in importance, too. You mean everything that Patroclus meant to Achilles to Alexander, I know this. And everything that Achilles did for Patroclus and Patroclus for Achilles, you would do for Alexander and Alexander would do for you in turn if it was so required." Cassander knew he made little sense, but it was the only way he knew to express what he wanted Hephaestion to know.

"You say you want me to stand up to Alexander," Hephaestion remarked calmly, "and you say that I can do it. But then you say that I _am_ Alexander's Patroclus. I can't be both, Cassander."

Cassander laughed lightly. "The only thing you need to remember is this, Hephaestion, and it is quite simple. You're not Patroclus, you're Hephaestion. You are two entirely different men who are perhaps cursed to share versions of the others fate. You can either go Patroclus's route, which is not to say that Patroclus was not a good man, or you can go your own way, and stop seeing your life like one of Homer's epic tales." With that, Cassander nudged his horse into a canter and the clopping of hooves on the dirt ground as Cassander rode away from Hephaestion increased and echoed from the sandstone and clay buildings that lined the streets. Several villagers going about their work stepped out of the way for Cassander to pass.

Hephaestion's mount pawed restlessly at the ground and tried to leap after its companion, but Hephaestion held it back for the moment. Then, with a small smile gracing his lips, Hephaestion let his horse go and followed Cassander in a cloud of dust.

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**a/n: **sooo?? More reviews equal a faster (and longer) update (by Sunday… I think) that, if things go how I'm thinking, just might include a little Cassander/Hephaestion action… you so know you want to review now… mmmhmmm. And sorry for the rather horrible ending but I JUST found out (seriously, 3 seconds ago) that apparently I'm going to Annapolis tomorrow… yeah, I don't know quite why either but there ya go. Not that it's only around five now… but I haven't watched Alexander since about… _Friday_ and that's just not a good thing. REVIEW!! -Steph


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note— **

Thank you for the reviews!! I'm going to keep this short and get on with the chapter. Oh. And sorry this is so late. I've been busy with school and then FFN would not let me download the document… and sorry I didn't get to reply to reviews, my computer decided to hold a strange grudge towards me for about a week and not let me do anything. I think slamming it shut showed it though… but then FFN wouldn't let me download documents so... grrr

REVIEW!!

-Steph

**Disclaimer: **I own all three _versions_ of the movie but not the actual movie… and therefore I own neither the portrayals of the characters (those belong to Oliver Stone and the actors) nor the actual guys since I hear that a little thing called history has claimed them… not that they can _be_ owned…

**FLL OF TROY **

**Chapter 6 **

It was no unknown fact that Alexander enjoyed a good cup—or perhaps several—of good wine. Only the real stuff, the hardy, unmixed Macedonian wine that sent the head spinning in delicious delirium after one cupful would do, though. The best times to drink, he felt, were when elated and when utterly angered or saddened. Tonight he was both of the latter.

Behind the anger and sadness of despair, Alexander was frustrated. Frustrated at Hephaestion for abandoning the eerie calm and the very essence that made him Hephaestion. Frustrated at Hephaestion for sparking his anger, seemingly willingly, as he bit and shredded the myths he held in such high esteem. But he was more frustrated at himself for allowing the horrible anger to consume his soul.

There was still the part of Alexander that waited for Hephaestion to come to him. To kiss him with his lush lips and embrace him with his warm arms before they talked in the way that only two lovers and friends as close and they could, over a cup of wine. Alexander, through his great heart and pride, could not say that Hephaestion was completely faultless in the situation but he was also not at fault. Alexander had crossed an invisible line he'd always taken for granted when it came to Hephaestion and his actions had finally succeeded in driving Hephaestion away from him. He'd never struck Hephaestion through his anger before. He knew he could not expect Hephaestion to forgive him so easily, and he could not let his temper rise even higher when he did not.

Alexander's hopes for the meeting of the Companion's that morning had crashed upon his shoulders most violently. He had apologized! A king did not need to apologize to anyone but he had. And Hephaestion had snubbed his sincere efforts and thrown them back in his face as he taunted Alexander. Hephaestion could have smirked for all Alexander knew. Hephaestion's damning of his title of Patroclus had pained Alexander more then he had let show, the final blow, though, had come when Hephaestion had so blatantly said that he did not want to see Alexander privately anymore. Surely that in itself justified Alexander's reaction.

But Alexander was determined to once again be placed willingly in the favor of his favored general. It must be because he wants it, Alexander reminded himself sternly as he thought of how he could demand it of Hephaestion for Hephaestion could not refuse a direct command and order from the king, no matter what his personal feelings were. But that would surely gain him only more contempt from his cerulean eyed general.

He should make another effort at dinner that night, Alexander decided decisively. Determined to call dinner as soon as acceptable, Alexander brushed off Bagoas's pleading for him to stay and rest, issuing claims that Alexander was too exhausted from the morning, with perhaps more roughness then he had wanted to use with the pretty Persian.

All were in the dinning room on time. All that was, except the two that had been late that morning. Though Alexander could not imagine why Hephaestion was late along with Cassander for the second time, he chose to not make another scene of it. Parmenion, Crateros, Philotas and Cleitus, though granted the evening free to rest privately after their successful and quick shut down of the rebel tribe in the mountains, were there on time.

Alexander sat in his chair with a beaker of wine held in his hand. The other generals talked and laughed as they ate and drank but Alexander waved off any and all attempts at conversation with him and settled with just watching for the moment. He watched at Nearchus joined Crateros, Cleitus and Philotas and seemed to recount a tale of great pleasure to all of the men, using hand gestures and facial expressions to convey key points.

Ptolemy paused by Alexander's shoulder and spoke into his ear. "I was down in the stables earlier today and Hephaestion's groom told me that Hephaestion had ridden out with Cassander this morning. They should be here soon," he assured his king.

If the news fazed him Alexander showed it only with a nod of his head. Ptolemy lingered a moment longer by Alexander before he moved on to where Perdiccas and Leonnatus stood.

Alexander stared thoughtfully into his beaker of wine. Why would Hephaestion be with Cassander? Cassander, Alexander knew, shared no favor or any kind sentiment towards Hephaestion and Hephaestion, he was sure, shared those same sentiments! Yet it seemed as though the two had formed the oddest alliance between themselves. The thought of his sweet, pure Hephaestion with _Cassander_ gripped Alexander's heart with the cold, painful clutches of jealousy.

Alexander downed his cup of wine and beckoned for a servant to refill his cup. He gulped down the contents of his second cup of wine when the image of Cassander and Hephaestion _together_ would not leave his head. The servant, still standing close by, was futile to deny Alexander another refill of his cup. At least the king only took one gulp before sipping it, the servant thought before edging quietly away.

Hephaestion and Cassander finally entered. Alexander watched them from the corner of his eye. They were together, yes, but not touching. Hephaestion was half a pace in front of Cassander and Cassander walked behind him, ready to lend a hard shove to the back if Hephaestion decided to stop walking again. The man was no better than a child himself! Cassander thought spitefully. He stepped up to Hephaestion's side, deciding his job of prison bearer had to be finished for the evening. He rested his hand on Hephaestion's arm and Hephaestion inclined his head towards Cassander's. Cassander said something and Hephaestion nodded before the pair moved off to the side of the room without sparing Alexander as much as a glance.

To see Cassander's hand on Hephaestion's arm and the pain at not hearing the soft spoken words Cassander had shared with Hephaestion was enough for Alexander to gulp back the remaining contents of his beaker. The servant closest to him hurried with his pitcher to refill the king's cup. Alexander drank a few mouthfuls from his fresh cup to steady himself. Then he stood up and raised his arm and beaker in the air. The rest of the men quieted as they watched Alexander.

Alexander surveyed his closest Companions and a smile wavered across his flushed face. "To Parmenion, to Philotas, Cleitus and Craterus for leading a speedy and successful attack on the rebels!" he toasted and drank from his cup as the rest of the men echoed his praise and drank themselves. "Let all of Bactria know who rules them now!" he cried, the men's responding cheers heightened his excitement in his drunken state.

Hephaestion, though not looking too pleased with it, drank in honor of Parmenion, Crateros, Cleitus and Philotas but he did not join in the men's cheers. He looked up briefly at Alexander to find the king's eyes focused on him. He tried to look away but was unwillingly captured by the light in Alexander's dark eyes. Alexander's face was flushed lightly and his wide eyes bright with drunkenness. Hephaestion looked purposefully down at the ground in disgust.

Alexander misinterpreted Hephaestion's brief rapture and no sooner had the thought passed fleeting through his mind he thrust his arm up higher. "And to Hephaestion!" he yelled above the noise. Hephaestion's eyes snapped up from the ground and a frown creased his handsome face. Cassander glanced briefly at Hephaestion before letting his eyes slide back to Alexander, awaiting the damage he would bring with his next words. The room had quieted once again but that seemed not to deter Alexander from whatever vain quest he was on now. "To Hephaestion!" Alexander repeated. "For his withstanding loyalty and friendship to all… and to his outstanding achievements as logistics commander!"

Nearchus, Philotas, Cleitus and Crateros yelled out Hephaestion's name heartily and mockingly whooped. The rest of the men were more respectful. Alexander's face could barely contain his smile. He'd surely done it now! Hephaestion would _have_ to forgive him after this!

Hephaestion though, was less then thrilled. His eyes flashed dangerously as they darted to Nearchus and his jolly gathering. His shoulders tensed and his hands balled into desperate fists, he ignored the pain that shot from his wound and up his arm in his anger. Alexander's smile and sparkling eyes made him sick and he set down his own cup before taking a step forwards.

Cassander, his reflexes as quick and as sensitive as those of a cat, grabbed his arm and, while he did not pull him back, he stopped him from moving forwards. "Hephaestion," he said as a simple warning, aware of all the eyes focused on them at the moment.

Hephaestion stopped and tensed once more before shaking off Cassander with a hard shove. He left the room silently, all eyes on his back. When the doors banged closed Cassander was the first to move, straightening his cloak as he followed Hephaestion out.

Alexander scowled but did no more then call for more wine.

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"Hephaestion!"

Hephaestion heard Cassander's footsteps echoing off the walls as the other man followed him with a fast pace. Hephaestion ignored it though and only continued his quest to his rooms.

Cassander groaned and, though he had it in his right mind to turn around and forget about Hephaestion, he quickened his pace to catch up with the general.

"Hephaestion," he repeated, his voice lowering, as he reached Hephaestion's side. Hephaestion, though he did not acknowledge Cassander's presence was aware of it and did not turn him away. Cassander held his tongue for the moment, though there were something's he wanted to say to Hephaestion, and compromised that he would say them all as soon as they reached the privacy of Hephaestion's rooms.

The guards in front of his doors quickly moved to make space for Hephaestion and Cassander to enter when they drew near. The doors clattered closed behind them. Cassander stopped and watched as Hephaestion stalked through his rooms.

"That was a foolish thing to do, Hephaestion," Cassander said simply, forgoing the other, less flattering phrases that moved about his mind.

Hephaestion whirled around and his eyes glinted dangerously in the candlelit room. "Foolish?" he echoed. "_Me_?"

Cassander nodded and stepped deeper into the rooms. "You should not trifle with Alexander's anger so—"

"Oh," Hephaestion interrupted with a snort of harsh air. "_I_ should not trifle with _Alexander's_ anger, should I?"

Cassander narrowed his eyes. "Must you repeat everything I say?" he asked irritably.

Hephaestion was silent for a moment before he flung his arms up into the air and turned on his heel and called out roughly, "Lyones!"

The boy scampered hurriedly into the room, Hammarleya barely stayed concealed behind the curtain that marked off the small space set aside for Hephaestion's servants. She peeked around the silk curtain cautiously, not used to Hephaestion raised voice.

"Bring a pitcher of wine, Lyones," Hephaestion demanded. Lyones ran off to fetch what Hephaestion had ordered. Lyones returned quickly and set to carefully filling up two cups. Hephaestion waved Lyones off once he was done filling the cups. Hephaestion watched Lyones disappear behind the curtain once more before looking thoughtfully back to Cassander, neither man touched the wine that had been laid out for them.

"I don't really understand you, Cassander," Hephaestion said.

Cassander looked back up at Hephaestion slowly. He waited for Hephaestion to continue.

"You're probably the last person who I would have thought would have helped me, and yet you did. What I can't figure out is what you want from me. Because there must be something," Hephaestion reasoned above Cassander's protests, "why else would you still be here? I could figure it out," Hephaestion said as he walked several paces along the wall, "if I knew what your intentions were. You tell me not to give into Alexander, and then you tell me that I need to be his Patroclus. But then you tell me that I don't need to Patroclus, I should just be Hephaestion… But now that I haven't laughed at Alexander's insults with the rest of them, that's wrong too. You tell me that I should have stayed and drank to his toasts that were so clearly an insult to me?"

"They were not an insult, Hephaestion," Cassander protested.

"Then what were they?" Hephaestion rounded on Cassander. "He's mocked me publicly for the second time—at least!—since last eve, and you want me to laugh it off?"

"They were not meant as insults, Hephaestion!" Cassander retorted.

"Then what were they?" Hephaestion's voice rose. "They sounded like insults to me!" he continued when Cassander failed to answer. "I know what everyone thinks of my job as 'logistics commander', oh, I assure you I do, so don't _tell_ me it was Alexander's way of apologizing because I know it to be his way of subtly insulting so you don't know if he actually is insulting you."

"Well perhaps he will insult you now," Cassander snapped, "seeing as you walked out directly preceding a toast he made to _you_, whether it was in spite or not, Hephaestion, it was still to you and you walked out."

"As did you," Hephaestion said.

Cassander shrugged and grabbed one of the cups of wine. "I did," he acknowledged. He took a sip of the wine before sitting down on a couch and putting his feet atop the table in front of it.

"You make no sense to me, Cassander," Hephaestion said once again in apparent exasperation.

"Perhaps that is how I like it." Cassander took another sip. Hephaestion turned to look out of the doors that led to the balcony. Cassander regarded him thoughtfully. "You think I'm just after your place in Alexander's heart," he said, swirling the wine in his cup around. "The other men are and they make no show to hide their intentions. If I wanted Alexander I would have had him a long time ago."

Hephaestion turned around and faced Cassander once more. "Isn't that what everyone wants?" he asker wryly.

Cassander shrugged and leaned back into the couch. "Everyone's father wanted—and still does want—it. And, in turn, everyone else wants it too."

"Except you," Hepahestion said dubiously.

"Yes," Cassander agreed. "Except me."

"I thought you said that you were jealous when Alexander didn't pick you…" Hephaestion attempt to blindly follow the path that Cassander's mind was traveling in.

Cassander took another drink from his cup. "When we were boys I liked Alexander, I truly did. I thought he'd be a good playmate if nothing else. And then you came from Athens after being gone for years and he immediately picked you. It was quite a shot to my little-boy ego, you know." Cassander chuckled briefly. "I'm sure your father told you to do everything you could to get close to Alexander, too. But you didn't have to do anything really. The others still hold the feelings their fathers shared with them, but I don't, and neither do you I'm sure. If my father wants someone of his blood as close to Alexander as you then he can look to his other sons to suck up to the king because I have no desire to be in your position."

"Your feelings have been twice noted, Cassander."

"Good," Cassander said brightly, swigging back the remaining contents of his wine. "Then let us speak of something beside Alexander," he said, putting his emptied cup down on the table. "He truly is a most boring subject to discuss over and _over_." Cassander grinned.

Hephaestion slowly sat down on the couch opposite Cassander's. The two men were silent as they tried in vain to think of something to speak of that did not somehow involve Alexander. It was amazing how many things involved Alexander directly or otherwise. Or perhaps, Hephaestion mused, we just have nothing to speak of. Hephaestion looked up, broken from his thoughts, at the sound of Cassander's laughter.

"What?" he rose and eyebrow in question.

Cassander sighed. "I just keep thinking about both of us being here right now and together."

Hephaestion allowed himself a smile but tried to cover it up by looking towards the wall. "Patroclus and Hector," Hephaestion said. "Just because it didn't happen doesn't mean it wouldn't have."

Cassander wrinkled his nose in brief disgust. "Hector had the beautiful Andromache. He had no reason to be with Achilles _boy_."

"Patroclus was the elder of the pair, if my memory serves me correct," Hephaestion said.

Cassander scoffed and waved it off. "He was still Achilles whore, no matter what his age was," Cassander said to remind Hephaestion that Cassander was still very much Cassander. Hephaestion smiled briefly and bit his bottom lip to hide his laughter. "And there never would have been a Hector and Patroclus," Cassander continued. "They were enemies after all, hardly the foundations for a relationship."

"They never had a chance to be anything other than enemies," Hephaestion said casually.

"And with good reason," Cassander said. "Nothing would have been the same if Patroclus had been a Trojan. He died young but not without cause or glory. Patroclus' purpose was to serve Achilles. If Patroclus had not been with Achilles—not been there at all—the whole story would be different, and not so worth the telling of it."

Hephaestion thought for a moment.

"But, by the gods," Cassander continued, "for the last time, I'm not telling you to go out and _be_ Patroclus. Your fate is undeniably linked to be a man such _as_ Patroclus was but you're completely different. Now you could take the Patroclus route if you felt so inclined to do so but—" Cassander had been so absorbed in his ranting that he had failed to notice the laughter coming from Hephaestion's couch. Now that he did notice it, however, his eyes narrowed on his laughing companion. "What?" he asked coldly but even Cassander couldn't keep the tiniest trace of a smile out of his voice or off of his face.

"If we were in the Iliad right now, what part would we be at?" Hephaestion asked.

Cassander looked pensive for a moment. "Perhaps at the part where Agamemnon takes Briseis away from Achilles in compensation for his own loss," Cassander said slowly, still thinking. "Achilles is acting like a spoilt child who hasn't gotten what he wants and intends upon sulking about until he gets it…"

"I think that there was a bit more behind Achilles reasoning than that," Hephaestion said softly.

"Yes, yes, of course there was," Cassander said vaguely. "That was just how it came off. No. I think we'd be at the part when Patroclus stands up to Achilles about Achilles not fighting."

"Are you saying that I'm about to die, Cassander?" Hepheastion asked with a dim twinkle in his cerulean eyes.

Cassander shrugged and grinned a wolfish grin. "Not _die_ necessarily…"

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Ptolemy silently cursed the gods for his rotten luck as he helped a rather unsteady Alexander stagger back to his rooms. He gritted his teeth and tried not to breathe in the scent of Alexander's breath heavy with wine.

Ptolemy had seen Hephaestion faithfully take Alexander back to his rooms in his drunken state time and time again but had never fully appreciated the General's place until now. The other men, no matter how eager they were to fill Hephaestion's place, were not so eager to take over this one job and all had quickly left the dinning hall. Ptolemy had lingered in his conversation with Perdiccas but even Perdiccas had managed to edge from the room before him and Ptolemy felt as though he had to see Alexander safely back to his rooms and into the waiting care of Bagoas.

The guards opened Alexander's doors, as was their silent custom to do when they saw Hephaestion bringing their king back at nights.

Ptolemy led Alexander into his rooms and took him to a chair when Bagoas did not immediately make his presence known, as was the Persian eunuchs startling tendency to do so.

Ptolemy did not quite know what else to do but Alexander was no longer paying him any attention so he started to move silently towards the doors.

"Ptoelmy!" Alexander's voice stopped him short in his tracks. Ptolemy slowly turned around and was faced with Alexander's wide, glassy eyes. "Bring me Hephaestion," he ordered, his words only slightly slurred together.

"Alexander," Ptolemy began, his mind whirling for any excuse to take the idea out of Alexander's head, "it is late," he settled on. "Are you sure that you—"

"Just bring him to me," Alexander snapped. "I'll just send another in your place if you don't go and get him," he warned.

Ptolemy sighed. He had the vaguely unsuppressed feeling that nothing good would come from Alexander's request but he saw no other way out of it. "I'll get him, Alexander."

Alexander grinned stupidly. "Good," he said simply before turning away from Ptolemy.

Ptolemy took his leave then in silence and as he walked towards Hephaestion's rooms, he once again cursed the gods for this rotten luck they'd bestowed upon him.

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**a/n: **sorry for the shortness! I have a bunch of other stories I haven't updated in months (like six) and I should probably do something about them. And I can't decide how to transition into the next part so… it will be up by next week though! Review! -Steph


	7. UPDATE INFO PLEASE READ!

DUDESSS!!

Guys. Oh. My. God!

Please believe me when I say how HONESTLY sorry I am about leaving you hanging for a year. The worst case of writers block PLUS school craziness PLUS two summers of nonstop activities just got in the way. That's no excuse of course. BUT some good news… I'm going to update! Like SOON! Like… Wednesday? IF the Phillies win the World Series and I get to cut school because everyone's going to the parade. See? One good thing DOES come from baseball!!

But yeah. I'm SUPPOSED to be studying for the bio test from HELL right now but I'm not… of course. I got curious about my poor, old, forgotten Alexander fic and started reading it and got hooked. I've never been so enthralled with something I've written before. And then I got the last chap and I was like crap… guess I've got to update… because even I, the author, got pissed at the author for not updating.

So, in conclusion: I'm a terrible, terrible authoress but am going to update soon!

Thank you for all the lovely reviews, I'll try to reply to some of them!

Keep a look out for that next chapter sometime before Sunday… if it doesn't come you all have permission to… I dunno, attack me with pitchforks or something.

Steph Malfoy


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